"Fatal Consequences"

[STSF Seiben 0]

“Fatal Consequences”

Monday, 07 July 1969 – 9:00pm

Cape Kennedy Space Centre

Night time had finally descended casting its dark blanket over Cape Kennedy. By this time, most of the workers have already gone home for the day. Cape Kennedy was dark and quiet of activity, save for a few security guards patrolling the area. Monica Adams increased her speed as her grey Skylark approached. She cast a glance around the Interstate leading to the Cape. She was the only person on the road which relieved her greatly.

Monica was still kicking herself over the fiasco that took place earlier in the morning...

Earlier that day – around 11:00am

A young, but eager reporter for the Miami Herald, Monica was one of the reporters covering the Apollo 11 launch for the paper. She had heard over the grapevine of the small fire in the Vehicle Assembly Building and jumped at the chance to investigate. Though she didn’t have the authorization clearance to enter that part of NASA, she wouldn’t let that little formality stop her from getting the scoop. Despite not being on NASA property one of NASA’s security guards came over and asked her to stop taking pictures.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you’re not authorized to take any pictures of the VAB. We are currently conducting a thorough investigation on the fire and we will let you know our findings via a press statement to be released later” the guard replied. Not wanting to get into an argument with the large imposing guard, Monica nodded, apologized and left the area.

Since she wasn’t technically on NASA property when she took the pictures, Monica knew that the guard couldn’t arrest her for trespassing or confiscate her pictures, but she wanted to take more pictures without being harassed by security. Waiting for the guard to leave and return to his station, Monica drove back to the parking lot, and then turned into a small dirt road adjacent to the facility.

From the confines of the forest, the thick vegetation hid her car enough for her to continue taking pictures and jotting notes of the frenzied activity around the VAB -- or so she thought. As she was looking through her binoculars to get a closer look inside, she noticed a Camaro approach from the west. The unfamiliar car quickly approaching her was enough to stop her activities and get the heck out of dodge before the Camaro arrived.

Quickly merging onto the Interstate, she was relieved to see the Camaro break off as she left the dirt road. The Camaro nosed back to Cape Kennedy and allowed Monica to get away unimpeded. She cursed her luck. How did they manage to find her car in the thick forest? And since when did NASA Security Guards use brand-new Chevy Camaros as their patrol cars?

Monica figured it was either the guard’s personal car or perhaps an unmarked high speed pursuit car, like the kind the Florida State Troopers use, either way, the ordeal was a little too close for comfort and Monica couldn’t risk having her pictures and notes taken from her. She figured she would return later in the evening under darkness to continue her scoop.

9:05 pm:

The stars above and Monica’s headlights only lighted the dark night as she approached Cape Kennedy. Slowing down and dropping to a lower gear, she turned back into the dirt road adjacent to the NASA facility. As she thought, the place looked deserted. She turned off her headlights and quietly stopped the car near a tree and beside the fence dividing the road and Cape Kennedy. She drove her car right behind the trees, got out and threw on some fallen branches over her car in an effort to hide it further.

Though the VAB was situated far off on the other end, it was still easy to get a good view of the large building. The VAB was bathed in lights and even at this time, several fire engines and other vehicles surrounded the building. Vehicles and people entered and exited the building. Monica took her camera out from her camera bag and adjusted the telephoto lens on her camera and zoomed in on the doors of the VAB. Safely hidden behind large shrubs surrounding the fence, Monica snapped away on her camera taking as many pictures of the activity as she could.

She smiled to herself. All this buzz of activity seemed contrary to NASA’s press statement released earlier in the day, suggesting it was a ‘minor technical fire, which was quickly contained and completely extinguished and did not affect the Saturn V rocket or any other Apollo 11 equipment’. Or, maybe they were just being overly thorough in making sure the fire was indeed out, who knows? All Monica knew was that these pictures and story may just finally earn her that promotion she’d been itching for.

Monica stopped to change the film on her camera when she noticed a set of highlights approaching from the dirt road. Monica ducked back under the shrubs and held her breath. A blue two door Chevrolet Suburban drove past, then turned off the dirt road parking in the thick grass a few metres away from her. It was the previous generation model, and from Monica’s best guess, probably about 5 or 6 years old – roughly the same age as her ’64 Skylark convertible.

The Suburban stopped in the thick grass near the fence. Its driver turned off the lights and ignition and got out of the truck. The driver was a slim attractive woman dressed in a black catsuit; kind of like the ones Emma Peel and Cathy Gale wore on the Avengers. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. The woman was probably over 6 feet tall; almost a foot taller than Monica was about 5’4”. Though she looked attractive, Monica could see that she clearly worked out. From her athletic build and muscular arms, it looked as if the woman was built like a tank.

The woman reminded Monica of Big Ethel (or perhaps a female Moose Mason) from the Archie comics she used to read, albeit more prettier and minus the buckteeth. ‘Big Ethel’ looked around then walked to the back of the Suburban. She opened the back doors and took out a small shovel from the back. She then walked back towards the edge of the fence. As Monica watched, she was curious as to who ‘Big Ethel’ was and why she was here. Was she FBI or CIA maybe? Or was it somewhere much more sinister.

Perhaps she was some sort of spy, or one of those wacko radical anti-government hippie types that have been known to trespass in government buildings and trash the place up. That might explain the catsuit. Monica stayed low under the bushes and watched the woman dig a hole in a spot near the fence. ‘Big Ethel’ eventually found was she was looking for and picked up a smallish silver device, which was buried in the ground. The device was the size of a baseball and had two antennas sticking out from the top and had a series of flashing lights along the top and bottom.

‘Big Ethel’ smiled and was a bit relieved it was still there and nobody found it. But they why would they? She hid it in such a way to make it virtually impossible to detect even with 23^rd century technology. ‘Big Ethel’ didn’t notice Monica aim her camera and snap pictures of her and the device. She reached into her pocket and flipped open her communicator. “I have what I was looking for. I’m going to review the footage return back to base” she said. An unknown male voice responded seconds later. “Good. Report back what you find when you’re done” he said. “Roger that” replied ‘Ethel’ as she flipped the communicator closed and returned it to her pocket.

‘Big Ethel’ walked back to the Suburban and tossed the shovel in the back, closing the doors she walked over to the front of the truck and placed the small device on the hood. She took out a PADD and connected it to the device. It was a small tracking device used to record images and video. She planted it there last night to get footage of Cape Kennedy and the VAB in particular. She reviewed the video footage detailing NASA’s response to the fire there earlier this morning.

It was a good way to gauge their response to a fire in the VAB. One of the other operatives secretly removed a safety ring from the lunar module which controlled the flow of fuel into the engine. The footage of the response to the flame, the time emergency vehicles took to respond to the scene and the number of guards that arrived was apparent. She studied the footage and quickly exposed the holes in NASA’s security. It was just as their data predicted.

‘Big Ethel’ would hear about the Director’s reaction to the fire from the operative later in the day. She chuckled as that stupid wind bag, Sam Phillips, directed the blame of the fire solely on one of the new technicians – even going so far as to accuse him of being a spy, demanding to see his ID and security clearance and ordering a guard to closely monitor his activities. What an idiot, ‘Ethel’ thought to herself. Satisfied, ‘Big Ethel’ disconnected the PADD and turned off the tracker. “I’m heading back to base” she said and tossed the tracker into the front seat. She was about to get in when she suddenly heard the sound of a twig snapping nearby.

She looked towards the source of the noise and saw a young brunette female peeking out from the bushes a few metres away holding a camera. “Damn.” Monica’s face whitened as she felt the twig from under her foot. ‘Big Ethel’ recognized her instantly. She was that nosy reporter that the NASA security guards busted for taking unauthorized pictures of the VAB earlier in the morning. She quickly ran to Monica and began to draw out her phaser.

“I’ve been compromised!” she said into her communicator. “Starfleet?” asked the male voice. “No” replied Ethel. “It’s a local reporter.” The voice on the other end sounded angry. “You fool! Did you not ensure the area was secure prior to retrieving the tracker?! We can’t risk jeopardizing the mission due to some nosy reporter! Deal with it and report back to me once you do so!” he said and abruptly cut the connection.

Monica saw ‘Big Ethel’ run towards her and ran as fast as she could. A thousand questions rushed through her mind. Who was she? What was she doing? What was that device she was holding? And who the hell was she talking to? Those thought came to a halt when a streak of light whizzed past her head missing by less than a metre. The bolt of light struck a bush which instantly vaporised away. “What the hell? Did she just shoot a laser at me?” Monica mumbled to herself.

‘Big Ethel’ aimed her phaser again, but missed due to the thick vegetation. It was hard to get a good shot with all these bushes and thick grass. She ran faster and began to close in. In the dark, Monica failed to see a root jutting out from the ground in front of her. The root caught her foot causing Monica to trip and fall to the ground. ‘Big Ethel’ smiled. She stopped just feet away and aimed the phaser at Monica’s head. She was about to pull the trigger when she was kicked hard in the knee by Monica’s right foot.

The kick was enough to throw the shot to the right of Monica’s head hitting the grass just inches from her face. ‘Ethel’ aimed the phaser again, but before she could get another shot, Monica swung her right arm as hard as she could. Her arm made contact with ‘Ethel’s causing the small phaser to fly out of ‘Ethel’s hand and land somewhere in the thick grass several metres away. She then clenched her fist and punched ‘Ethel’ square in the jaw.

The punch knocked ‘Ethel’ to the ground with a thud. It was like punching a brick wall. Monica rubbed her hand painfully then began to run back to her car. Monica now regretted wearing her high heel pumps today. They were fashionable and made her legs look sexy, and were good leverage to use on the NASA security guards. It worked on more than one occasion allowing her to take photos and notes in areas she normally wasn’t allowed to go. But none of that mattered now. She tried to scream for help, but nobody heard her. They were too far away for anyone to see or hear them.

Her high heels made running cumbersome and slowed her down significantly. She was thinking about taking them off and run barefoot when she felt a cold, strong hand grab her left ankle. Monica looked back, and saw ‘Big Ethel’s Big Hand wrapped tightly around her ankle. Stopped in her tracks, Monica jerked backwards and fell to the ground landing on her chest. Monica tried to wriggle her foot loose, but lost her shoe to ‘Ethel’ who quickly tossed it aside.

With cat-like reflexes especially considering her size, ‘Ethel’ lunged forward and wrapped her hand around the reporter’s now bare foot before she had the chance to get away. ‘Ethel’s grip on Monica’s foot was vice-like. Monica thought her foot was going to break off if ‘Ethel’ squeezed any harder. It felt as if it was caught in a bear-trap. There was no use trying to break free, as ‘Big Ethel’ was too strong. In an effort to bring the reporter close enough to grab another part of her body, ‘Ethel’ pulled the reporter’s foot as hard as she could and dragged her a good five feet or so and reached for the reporter’s body.

 

To Monica, it felt as if ‘Ethel’ was going to rip her toes out, pulling her by the foot like that. It hurt like hell, but at least now she was now close enough to fight her off. Using her free right leg, Monica kicked as hard as she could as ‘Ethel’ reached for her. The pointed part of her high heel pump struck ‘Ethel’ square in the right cheek. She heard a dull thud as the heel impacted as well as the crack of bones breaking as ‘Ethel’s grip on Monica’s foot finally loosened allowing her to finally break free. “Try to break my foot will you? I’ll break your face” she said and ran off.

She quickly found her missing shoe and slipped it back on (she didn’t know why) and then quickly ran back towards her car. Monica was a few metres away when ‘Big Ethel’ charged and grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the ground. ‘Big Ethel’ quickly wrapped her hands around Monica’s neck and began choking, a sinister grin forming on ‘Ethel’s face as she watched the life being choked out of Monica. Already starting to feel dizzy and lightheaded from her brain being cut off from its oxygen supply, Monica frantically felt the dirt ground for anything she could use to defend herself. Her hand quickly came across a jagged rock. Relief set in and she swung the rock as hard as she could.

The rock struck ‘Big Ethel’s temple with a dull thud. Blood starting gushing out from that wound as well and ‘Big Ethel’ went limp and released her chokehold of Monica’s neck. Taking large gulps of fresh air, Monica didn’t have time to catch her breath. She looked back at ‘Big Ethel’ lying on the ground unconscious, but she wasn’t sure if ‘Big Ethel’ was dead or not. Monica didn’t want to find out. She got back to her feet and made the final mad dash to her car.

She quickly found her camera bag on the ground nearby and picked it up and frantically dug out her car keys. Quickly opening the door, Monica got in and turned on the ignition, and put the Skylark into gear and sped off back towards the highway like a dart. Not thinking that the NASA guards at Cape Kennedy would be of much help, she turned onto the interstate and headed towards Titusville, the nearest city. She had to find a payphone and call the police.

The blow to her head knocked ‘Big Ethel’ on her back and knocked the wind out of her. She must have lost consciousness for a few minutes. When she came to, she saw the taillights of Monica’s Skylark barrel down the road back to the highway. ‘Big Ethel’ ran back to the Suburban and quickly started it up. Though it was bigger and more cumbersome than Monica’s Skylark, the four-wheel drive Chevy was better able to handle the bumpy dirt road than the rear-wheel drive Buick that enabled it to decrease the distance between the two cars.

At this hour, this stretch of the highway was quiet. ‘Ethel’ couldn’t see any other cars on the highway, except for the reporter’s grey Buick Skylark, probably about 50 metres away. ‘Big Ethel’ increased speed and watched as the speedometer shot past 70 mph. Its modified V-8 engine gave the big truck the extra speed and acceleration it needed to quickly catch the reporter’s Skylark.

‘Big Ethel’ pressed down on the accelerator and struck the rear bumper of the Skylark with a loud thud. She then accelerated again and hit the Buick again. The thud was louder and the Skylark started to fishtail but the Buick straightened out and accelerated quicker. The trunk of the Buick was crumpled in slightly and one of the taillights was broken. The Buick’s chrome bumper caved in from the impacts of the much bigger and heavier Chevy, but seemed otherwise fine.

Dropping back, the woman swerved right moved alongside her. Making a hard left turn, the Suburban broadsided the Skylark. Little metallic sparks flew out as the two vehicles rubbed against each other. ‘Ethel’ continued to swerve the Suburban into the Buick, which slowly started to push it off the interstate. In her lights Monica could see a dirt road by the interstate. Before she could react, the Suburban broadsided her again which ran her off the interstate and into the dirt road.

The dirt road was long and winding. With no choice but to follow the dirt road Monica gunned her now battered car away from the Suburban. Without streetlights, she couldn’t see much except for the dirt road and trees. The sound of crickets and other wildlife filled the air almost drowning out the howls of the two V-8s of the vehicles on the road.

The Suburban followed closely but couldn’t drive beside the Buick due to the narrow dirt road. Trees lined the dirt road but turned sharply to the right. Ahead of the turn was a cliff. Nothing by sky and a sheer vertical drop to the river below waited straight ahead. ‘Big Ethel’ smiled. She had the nosy reporter right where she wanted her. As the cars approached the turn, she gunned it. The Suburban struck the left rear quarter panel of the Buick causing it to spin left.

‘Ethel’ braked and watched as the Buick swerved uncontrollably to the left. Monica felt the bang as the truck hit the rear of the car. She fought to bring her car back under control, but she couldn’t. The Buick spun left towards the cliff. She tried to brake but she was going too fast. And with no ABS (that wouldn’t come until 1978 on the Mercedes S-Class), the Buick’s front brakes locked as it skidded towards the edge of the cliff, it was too late to brake anyway. She was too close to the edge of the cliff.

The Buick careened off the cliff. With no fence or barrier to stop her, the Buick sailed off the edge of the cliff and plummeted 50 feet or so into the glistening river below. Monica screamed but it was short-lived. The Buick hit the river like a ton of bricks making a huge splash, disrupting a flock of whopping cranes and other birds floating nearby whom then simply flew away. The front end of the car caved in and the passenger compartment folded in like a pop can. The fact that the Skylark was a convertible didn’t help with structural rigidity either – not that the cars of this era offered great crash protection anyway. The force of the impact into the river killed Monica instantly. As the car settled into the river, it quickly began to take in water and sink nose first. ‘Big Ethel’ got out of her truck and watched the Skylark sink like a stone to the bottom of the river.

She got back into her car and took out her communicator. “Job done. The bogey has been eliminated,” she said simply. “Good” replied the male voice. “I have your location. I’ll meet with you at the end of the dirt trail you’re on” The woman acknowledged and put the truck back into gear and drove the two miles to the end of the trail. She stopped the Suburban at the end of the dirt road, which led back onto the interstate.

Shifting into park and shutting off the ignition, ‘Ethel’ got out of the truck. She waited less than a minute before a black Lincoln Continental pulled to the side of the road. The passenger side window lowered. The male driver pointed a phaser at the Suburban and set it to disrupt. He fired and seconds later the Suburban disintegrated into thin air. “I should do the same to you, but I still need you” he said sternly at Big Ethel.

“No traces” he said, referring to the disintegrated Suburban. ‘Ethel’ opened the rear suicide door of the Continental and got into the back seat. Once she closed the door, he merged back onto the interstate. He tossed the woman a dermal regenerator. “Fix yourself up. You look like crap.” The woman said nothing and waved the dermal regenerator over her face. Instantly, the cuts on her face sealed. Looking at a mirror, she looked as if she hadn’t been kicked in the face and hit with a rock over the head.

“It’s rather disconcerting you had so much trouble dealing with a nosy reporter. It makes me wonder what’ll happen if we come across a Starfleet officer” the man said. “She was exceptionally strong and feisty for a nosy reporter. But, it won’t happen again. You can be rest assured of that” ‘Ethel’ replied. The man looked at her through the rear view mirror. “Well, for your sake, you had better be correct.