Only Palin remained. The tunnel stayed open waiting for him. He approached Clay and put out his hand.
“Thank you, John Clay.”
“You’re welcome Palin.” Clay replied. He looked at Palin and smiled. “Brothers?”
Palin squeezed his hand. “Brothers.”
46
Alison sat in what was left of her large research room. The aquarium was officially shut down for three weeks. The carpet was gone and dozens of workers were repairing the walls. On the far side, some of the carpet had already been replaced and the servers were being reinstalled with the help of Lee and Chris. New desks were being carried in through the large hallway and stacked to the side until the floor was ready. Now, the workers were slowly beginning to file out for the evening.
She looked at the giant tank. The bullets had been removed from the glass and the holes patched and re-finished. Inside Sally slowly swam in place healing from the deep wounds that covered her body. Alison had fared even worse. Her right arm was in a cast and lacerations covered most of her face. Her legs had been very badly injured but fortunately the wheelchair she sat in was temporary.
The place felt like an opened tomb. She thought of the people who had died. She thought of Dirk who had innocently swam right into the middle of it all, thinking he was helping. Dolphins were so much more beautiful than humans she thought. They deserved to be here more than we did.
She lowered her head. Dirk and Sally felt like her children and losing him hurt her heart more than she ever thought possible.
Suddenly there was a bright flash. Alison looked up and around the room. After exchanging curious looks with Chris and Lee, she looked back and froze when her eyes fell on the tank. There in the water, next to Sally, was Dirk slowly moving his tail back and forth. Sally burst with excitement, circling him over and over, wounds and all. Dirk nudged her affectionately as she passed. After several moments, he turned his attention to Alison and swam to the edge of the tank. He opened his mouth and said something, but without IMIS it would go unheard.
He looked at her curiously, not sure why she was shaking. It would be some time before she could explain to him human crying.
President Carr stepped up to the lectern. He looked like he had aged rapidly in the last week. With his normal prose, he smiled and began the press conference.
“My fellow Americans, I am both troubled and proud to report to you the extraordinary efforts of our men and women in uniform in stopping not just one but two nuclear terrorist attacks. As you know avoiding a nuclear strike on American soil is our upmost priority and today we have done precisely that. Two airplanes, one coming from the Middle East and one coming from Africa, were both identified and destroyed before they could reach our shores. And while we can be glad that they were stopped, the bombs were, in fact, armed and detonated on impact. Fortunately, the lives lost were minimal. We believe these two warheads were stolen from Russia’s stockpile which we will…”
Clay watched the President from his barstool at the end of the counter. The spin was better than he expected. He reached for his beer which had hardly been touched. Governments lie, he thought. They always have and they always will. He raised the glass to his lips but stopped short and put it back down. He sighed and stood up slowly, holding his side. It was going to be a long recovery.
He pulled a bill from his wallet and dropped it onto the counter.
Out on the street, he decided to go for a walk and headed toward Constitution Avenue. Within a few blocks, he could see the tip of the Washington Monument over the rest of the buildings. At the park, he found and sat down on a bench, admiring the monuments to our forefathers.
“Next time you have one of your bright ideas,” a voice said behind him, “you can count me out.”
A startled Clay whirled around to see Steve Caesare standing behind him. He blinked several times. “What…how?” He stood up without turning around, wondering if he were hallucinating.
Caesare, with a load of bandages under his clothes, stood smiling at Clay.
“I don’t understand,” Clay said walking toward him.
He shrugged. “Back in the lab when you went through that portal thing, I managed to crawl through before it closed. I don’t really remember much after that.”
Clay simply stood there shaking his head. His eyes began to well up.
“Aw,” Caesare said. “I hope you’re not gonna cry right here in front of everybody.”
Clay smiled and wiped the tears away. He walked forward to Caesare and hugged him causing both of them to groan in pain.
“Hey,” Caesare said stepping back. “Did you hear about Stevas?”
Clay shook his head. “No.”
“Nobody’s seen him,” Caesare said. “Sounds like his wife called in a missing person’s report and nobody can find him. What a shame, huh?”
“Carr probably threw him in jail.”
“Uh uh,” Caesare said shaking his head. “From what I hear they don’t know where he is either.”
The two exchanged a puzzled look. After a long moment, a grin began to spread across both their faces. They turned and began walking away from the park. “So what now?” asked Caesare. “I still get my pension right?”
Clay stopped and frowned at him. “Man, I’m sorry, I told Borger he could have it.”
Caesare laughed. “Damn John, I wasn’t even cold yet.”
Clay smiled at him and looked up at the setting sun. “Actually, I thought I might take a drive south to Miami. Maybe check out the aquarium. I hear they’re doing some interesting things down there.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Michael Grumley lives in Northern California with his wife and two young daughters. His email address is mgrumley@gmail.com and his website is www.michaelgrumley.com.
Message from the author
Thank you for reading my debut novel “Breakthrough”. I hope you enjoyed it. If you would be so kind as to take a moment and add a review, I would be very grateful. Unfortunately Reviews and Referrals are the only real ways for a new, self-published author to compete with the big name writers, and it sure would be nice to make it out of the dark and dusty aisles of Amazon.
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If you do write a review, please email me at the address above and I will forward you a special version of the book’s last page revealing a hidden subplot that some readers may have missed. I thought it would be a fun way to say “Thank You”.