The Coach's Formula Part 19

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The next couple chapters are mostly going to be expository. But it is a foundation on which I want to build.

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Parts 1-11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18

Part Nineteen: Machiavelli’s Apprentice

That same Sunday, around the same time…

The lady picked up her tea and took a rather dainty sip. She liked Earl Grey in the morning.

She set the cup down next to the toast and marmalade. There was something about marmalade that made the lady feel wholesome. In fact she enjoyed it so much because there was precious little else that did.

“He’s here, Ma’am,” said one of the soldiers that she had been brought with her as an aide-de-camp.

The lady ignored him until she was ready.

After a couple minutes, she instructed the patient soldier, “Show him in.”

The soldier was well trained, as he’d waited at perfect attention for his master’s voice. When he’d received his command he saluted, turned on his heel, and quickly ushered the other waiting man into the tent.

“Hello, Mike,” said the lady at once.

The aide detected for the first time ever what appeared to be a note of genuine feeling in the lady’s voice. But he quickly made a hasty exit after a nod from the lady that his services were no longer required. It didn’t do to know too much of the lady’s business.

“Christine?” asked the man, in a somewhat bewildered tone.

The lady smiled at Mike like a woman who hadn’t seen her lover in a very long time.

“That’s not your real name though, is it?” asked Mike belatedly, as realization came flooding into his brain after the initial shock of seeing her passed away.

“Of course not, Mike,” the lady replied, a little sorrowfully, “But you can continue to call me that for now.”

Mike nodded in that knowing manner he had.

Being a former United States Marine, the lady considered that he must have learned resignation to the greater good very early in his career. The man was nothing if not a creature of his training.

“I should have realized that you of all people would be in charge of all this,” he continued.

As he spoke his eyes indicated his surroundings in the tent and, by implication, the soldiers and equipment of the operation that were deployed outside.

“Let’s not make this harder than it has to be,” the lady said softly, “We are not here to talk about you or me. We are here because David Martin has exposed himself to something you and I both know is very dangerous.”

“My son isn’t to blame for what happened to him,” Mike cut in quickly, interrupting the lady in the process.

The lady noted that Mike’s tone was more than a little defensive.

“Mike,” the lady said, lobbing the proverbial ball back into his court, “You and I both know that David Martin is not your son.”

“He may as well be. I’ve raised him since he was only a few days old.”

“Then you should have kept a better eye on him.”

“How was I supposed to know that McCready had gotten a hold of the formula from Operation Excelsior? The man has always been huge; I just assumed that he had been getting himself back into shape. And he gave it to the football team so slowly that I really did think their superior musculature was from his conditioning program. I mean it’s not like those kids were that huge. A lot of kids work out nowadays. Besides it was not my job to make sure the formula was destroyed.”

The lady nodded agreement.

She rarely admitted error, mostly because she rarely committed error.

“You’re right Mike, it wasn’t your job. It turns out McCready was assigned the job of driving the truck that was to take the cases to our facility for destruction and processing. Apparently he liberated a few of those cases along the way. However, I have reason to believe he was aided by someone on the inside Mike. How else could the cargo manifests have been altered? And your name was on those manifests.”

That brought Mike Martin up short.

“Now wait a minute Christine, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days. If I had intentionally allowed McCready to steal those cans, why would I have contacted you when I realized what happened to my son?”

After a pause he added, “Sons actually. I believe that Ryan may have been exposed as well. I know he has.”

“Your cooperation has been noted Mike,” said the lady, all business now, “And to demonstrate your good intentions we would like your further cooperation in bringing those who may have been exposed in for questioning and observation as peacefully as possible. We don’t know what the long term effects of the formula are. We need to make sure they are safe.”

“Well you remember that it didn’t seem to hurt me at all,” Mike said, thinking back on the man he had been before he had been selected to participate in Operation Excelsior.

“You were not subjected to a very strong dose of the formula Mike, or prolonged exposure. We don’t know the effect on adolescents who may have been taking it for over three years. There are a lot things we don’t know. By which I mean you specifically. Niodex was operated in this area since the late 1960s. Operation Excelsior was not the only experimental project that was conducted here.”

Mike considered this. He had come to this area as part of the military experiment, but when he’d been discharged shortly thereafter, he’d decided to stay. It seemed as good and wholesome a place as any to raise a child. Had that decision intentionally placed his sons in danger? Then again, as much as it pained him to think about, David Martin wasn’t his son at all, was he? But what about Ryan and Ted?

“I’ll help you,” he said, “If you promise no harm will come to David or Ryan in the process.”

The lady looked at him sharply.

“You have to promise, Christine,” he asserted emphatically.

“Okay,” said the lady, giving in quickly, “I promise that if it is within my power to stop, no harm will come to your sons.”

Mike considered that for a moment.

“Good enough,” he said, and then he added almost as an after thought, “I’m really sorry about all this.”

“Me too, Mike,” said the lady, “Me too.”

Part 20