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John Carpenter's
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HOSTILE TAKEOVER - CHAPTER 7
The morning was brisk with a slight chill in the October air at
Wayne Aeronautics Airfield. A few wisps of meager white clouds floated
in a sea of clear blue. The air was crisp and clean with the feel of
autumn. Fallen leaves danced delicately in the breeze. Birds chirped
in the trees of in the distance from the airfield. The airfield was
quiet except for a few sounds from personnel busying themselves with
their daily workload. It was truly a beautiful fall morning in Gotham.
A gleaming, black limousine slowly pulled up the roadway of the
airfield, coming to a halt at the entrance of hangar three.
The chauffeur of the limousine stopped and exited the vehicle. He was
an older man, possibly in his early sixties. His was of thin build and
tall, a veritable rail of a man. His gaunt face wore the most proper
expression of British dignity. His upper lip was adorned with a
well-groomed pencil thin moustache. One might liken his appearance to
that of British comic actor, John Cleese.
As duties dictated, he walked to the rear of the car and opened the
door for the occupant in the back seat. MacReady stepped out into the
morning air studying his surroundings. MacReady was dressed, as he
felt most comfortable. He wore his brown bomber jacket, khaki fatigue
pants and black hiking boots. Hanging on his back was his lucky brown
sombrero. The sombrero moreover resembled an oversized Mounties' hat
with the front and back of the rim curled up and the sides folded up.
Still, he referred to it as his sombrero.
The chauffeur opened the trunk of the limousine and retrieved
MacReady's luggage. This consisted of two army duffel bags. He didn't
have many possessions but what he did have was ready to move at a
moment's notice with informal speed. The chauffeur presented the
baggage to MacReady with the utmost professionalism, even though he
wasn't used to fetching duffel bags.
"Your... luggage, Sir." He politely declared.
"Thank you, uh... What's your name again?" Asked MacReady.
"You may refer to me as Alfred, Sir."
"Alfred, the chauffeur, huh?" Quipped MacReady.
"Actually, sir, I am first and foremost Mr. Wayne's personnel
attendant. Driving for him is just one of my copious duties." Alfred
informed MacReady.
"Yeah, must be just a ton of fun, huh?" MacReady returned taking his
bags.
"If you would be so kind to wait here, sir, a Col. Haines will meet up
with you shortly." Alfred said turning towards the limousine.
"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Responded MacReady looking over the airfield.
"My pleasure, Sir. I do hope that your trip is rewarding." Alfred said
with a nod of farewell.
"Yeah? I don't." Snipped MacReady. Alfred casually walked to the
driver's side door of the limousine and drove off. MacReady watched
the car get smaller in the distance for a moment and turned his
attentions back to his immediate environs.
MacReady reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his pack of
cigarettes. He gave the pack a quick jerk, popping up one of the
cigarettes from it. He raised the pack to his mouth and grasped the
extended filter with his lips. He gently lowered the pack down,
leaving the cigarette hanging from his stubbly lips. He tucked the
pack back in the inner pocket of his jacket. He fumbled around inside
the pocket for a moment and produced his silver "Zippo" lighter.
Grasping the lighter in his right hand, his index and middle finger on
the lid and his thumb on the bottom, he snapped his fingers, expertly
executed a one-handed igniting of the lighter. He lit his smoke and
deftly replaced the lighter back in his pocket.
"Enjoy your smoke, son. It the last you're gonna have for quite a
while." A voice said behind MacReady. MacReady turned to see who was
the jovial S.O.B informing him of his smoking privileges. A man was
walking towards MacReady. He was tall and stocky. He was dressed in
freshly pressed army fatigues.
"You must be MacReady. Hi, I'm Col. Matt Haines, U.S. army-retired."
Col. Haines walked up to MacReady offering his hand. He too was an
older man possibly in his late fifties. His short cut, wavy hair was
salt and pepper and was thinning out quite a lot on the crown.
MacReady found it ironic that despite his former incarceration and
torment since, he still appeared younger than Haines even though they
were close in age. His voice had a slight mid-western accent about it.
He was possibly from Wisconsin or Minnesota. Haines came across as a
friendly type of man. He wore a warm smile on his face and had a
comforting tone in his voice. He seemed to be more of the fatherly
type of man you would find on a sitcom than a career military officer
would be. MacReady hoped that the Colonel wouldn't try to be so
neighborly to any threats that might arise in the frozen south.
"R.J. MacReady, U.S. Army chopper pilot-discharged. U.S. Outpost
Thirty-one, chopper pilot-survivor." MacReady stated without one ounce
of humor. He meant what he just said about being a survivor.
"Nice ta meet 'cha, R.J. MacReady. You prefer 'R.J.' or 'MacReady' or
what?" Inquired Haines.
"Just 'Mac' will do. You work for Wayne or is this a personal favor?"
"Well, Mac, I've been working for him for about four years now, since
I retired from active duty. I perform delicate tasks that need special
attention for Mr. Wayne's businesses, understand?"
"Yeah, real covert secret spy stuff, huh?" MacReady said flippantly.
"Yeah, well, its not so cloak and dagger as that. I simply help insure
the safety of Mr. Wayne's property and personnel."
"Oh, of course. Did Wayne get the supplies I requested?" MacReady
queried.
"They're in the cargo hold. Let's get aboard and you can check 'em out
then." Offered Haines. "Lemme help you with carry your gear, Mac."
MacReady and the Colonel shared the load and brought MacReady's bags
to the private jet. The jet was an impressive air vehicle. MacReady
had seen and flown in private jets before but he had never seen one as
large and high tech as this. It was almost as large as a commercial
airliner. It was black with silver trim and a red "W" painted on the
tail fin. The name it was christened with was "The Night Bird."
Haines led MacReady up and into the jet. A pretty young woman waited
at the entrance to greet and accommodate the needs of the two
passengers. She wore a stylish, white blouse and a fashionable gray
skirt. Her appearance was more that of a professional businesswoman
than a stewardess. This did not surprise MacReady in the least. He
already figured out Wayne only hired the best of the best and the
hottest of the hot. She welcomed the men on board with a warm smile
and offered to take their luggage to their respective quarters.
Quarters? On a private jet? Man, did Wayne know how to live.
The inside was just as lavish as Wayne's office. It held luxurious
furnishings such as soft, black leather recliners and couches, a posh,
cherry wood desk and a chic, glass coffee table. A fully stocked bar
was located at the rear of the cabin. It was a notable little set up
with a blender for mixed drinks, a garnish tray stocked with freshly
cut lemon, orange and lime wedges and wheels plus plenty of bright red
maraschino cherries. In front of the small bar were two stools for
lounging. This was, indeed, high living.
For entertainment purposes there was a magazine rack built into the
side of the far wall. It held the latest issues of most every title on
the newsstand. A twenty-five inch television was available for their
use with an immense library of DVD movies for viewing, not to mention,
a state-of-the-art stereo system and CDs.
"Good morning gentlemen, my name is Gwen. We will be taking off
momentarily. Please, no smoking during the flight. Once we are
airborne you may move about freely. Until then, I ask you to strap
yourselves in your seats and remain there until further notice. Any
questions?" The stewardess said to her passengers. Her tone was
assuring and welcoming without the annoying cheerfulness most often
commonly found in stewardesses.
"Yeah, before we take off, I want to see my supplies in the cargo
hold." Demanded MacReady.
"Of course, sir. Mr. Wayne expected you would want to. Right this way,
please."
Gwen led the two men through a door next to the bar. The door led down
a short corridor past five doors that were the entrances to the
sleeping quarters. The corridor opened up into a small kitchen area. A
refrigerator and cabinets were built into the sides. She led them
through a door at the end. This opened up into a conference room. A
large oval table was positioned in the middle of the room with several
rolling chairs encircling it.
"Not much further, gentlemen.'' Gwen assured them.
"I hope not, I'm gonna need a nap after this trip alone, eh?" Joked
Haines jabbing an elbow into MacReady's side. MacReady was not amused.
It wasn't that he didn't find the remark humorous. He was just anxious
to get this trek underway. The faster they got there, the faster they
could get home.
They passed through another door from the conference room. This led
through a small walkway to a metal door. Gwen turned the handle to
open the door.
"This is it, Gentlemen. I'll open it for you. I have to go back up
front but you can check your equipment first. It is in the two crates,
you can't miss them. You should have ten minutes before take off, so
please, be finished and in your seats in the lounging area before
then." Gwen turned and left the men to their inspection.
MacReady and Haines went inside the cargo hold. As stated, there were
two, large wooden crates inside the hold. They were painted olive
drab, as if they military issue supplies. MacReady picked up the
crowbar that was on top of the crate nearest him and wedged it's flat
head between the lid and panel. He pushed down hard on his end and
loosened the lid of the nailed crate. He used the crowbar to then
loosen and raise the lid all around the crate. When it was raised
enough, he passed the crowbar to Haines, who then in turn repeated the
same process as MacReady.
MacReady removed the lid and peered into the crate. The room was dimly
lit but he could make out the contents with minimal difficulty. After
he rummaged around inside the crate and was satisfied with what he
found he proceeded to the next one.
"Everything checking out?" Inquired Haines.
"So far... so good." Replied MacReady looking from a piece of paper he
held to the inside of the crates. After a minute or two, he looked up
to Haines.
"Well, I've got extreme weather clothing, three flame throwers, extra
fuel for them, two flare guns, extra flares, one case of incendiary
grenades, thermite charges, detonators, phosphorus grenades, one
machete and one survival knife." MacReady read from the list.
"Is that everything?" Asked Haines.
"Close enough, I guess." Replied MacReady.
The only thing that wasn't in the case was the .45 automatic handgun
he had requested. He wasn't surprised by its absence. He anticipated
not getting one so he took matters in his own hands the night before.
After The Batman left him, MacReady went out and purchased one from a
dealer who didn't ask questions or bother with a five-day holding law.
He had it strapped to his right thigh, under his pants. His khaki
fatigues were baggy enough to conceal its presence. Extra rounds were
in one of his bags. He didn't know if the jet would have been rigged
to sensor it or not. It was a gamble he had to take. The risk paid
off.
He and Haines replaced and sealed the lids to the crates and made
their way back to the lounge area. MacReady brusquely plopped down in
one of the reclining, black leather chairs. He suddenly stood up as if
he remembered he had to finish something he started earlier. He
methodically walked behind the bar and poured himself a J&B neat. He
downed the contents with one toss. He refilled the tumbler then slowly
made his way back to his chair and resumed his relaxation.
"You might want ta exercise some moderation on that stuff, eh? It's
just a little after nine in the morning." Advised Haines.
"Breakfast of champions and all that shit." MacReady countered without
looking up.
"Well, we've got a long haul ahead of us and I don't need you
plastered the whole trip."
"Don't you worry yourself, Colonel. I'm a big boy and can do a lot
more damage to myself than this." MacReady wasn't in the mood for
lectures.
"I'm sure that you have. Ever think of getting help for that?" Queried
Haines.
"Look, I'm on a flying penthouse going to the coldest place on the
goddamn planet to find out if a bunch of frozen assholes have found a
one hundred thousand year-old space monster and thawed out it's frosty
ass so it can take over the world. Now, what I do on my time is my own
goddamn business. Understood, Colonel?"
Haines slowly circled in front of MacReady. MacReady rolled his eyes
form his glass up towards Haines. Haines stood there, his hands folded
behind his back.
"Look, It seems that we have gotten off on the wrong foot. Now, my
briefing from Mr. Wayne informed me of what you went through down
there and afterwards. Now, I'm here on your side, but to get through
this, we got to work together. All I'm asking is; go easy on the
sauce, all right? I need you focused and alert. Okay?" Haines
explained with all the sincerity he could muster.
MacReady looked back at his tumbler and studied it for a moment. He
twisted his wrist to inspect every side and angle of the glass. With a
quick flick of the wrist the rest of the scotch disappeared down
MacReady's throat. "Yeah... Okay."
"Good. Now I'd like to get this understood. I am in charge of this
investigation. You are here because you have had experience with this
thing in the past. I make the final call but I'll need your help if
this thing is loose and we need to stop it. Okay?"
MacReady thought about it for a minute. Taking orders from a retired
bumpkin who is on a rich boy's payroll didn't overly thrill him. He
decided to go along with the idea. That was until the chips were down
and thing go from bad to critical. "Okay, It's your game. We'll play
it your way." MacReady would bide his time until then.
All right, what we are gonna do is go down there, make sure that the
folks there haven't rediscovered your little friend. If they haven't
then we'll use your little firework display to make sure no does ever,
again."
"I hope we brought enough to do so." Mac speculated.
"We should. Now, if, in fact, they have found the wreckage and your
space chameleon, then we give 'em the test you told Wayne about and
find out who is who and do what we can to neutralize the problem. Now,
I do not, repeat, do not, want you to make any kind of move to burn or
destroy that thing until I tell you to, understood?" Haines commanded.
"Hey, you're the boss, I'm just going along for the ride." Gibed
MacReady.
"Good. Let's pray that we don't have to do anything at all."
"So, what route are we taking to get there?" MacReady asked.
"Well now, we gotta travel about ten thousand miles to get there.
We're going straight down. We'll re-fuel in Buenos Aries and head
directly to MacMurdo. From there we'll helicopter to TOMAR. I'll fly
us in. I can fly damn near anything you put me in. You tend to learn
stuff like that with thirty-five years in the Armed Forces."
"Yeah, I have been told. One question: is our arrival common knowledge
to the good people of TOMAR?"
"Good question. The answer is negatory. Just in case the situation is
compromised, I'd like to keep the element of surprise on our side."
Haines responded.
"Yeah, that frickin' thing will have enough surprises for everyone."
The two men sat there in silence. One of the men wasn't sure what to
expect in the frozen confines of the South Pole. The other did, and
was scared to death of what could be waiting there for them. MacReady
closed his eyes. The events of what occurred nearly twenty years ago
replayed in his mind as fresh as yesterday.
MacReady drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of what happened before. This
time, the cast of characters was new and completely unknown. The only
new player he did recognize was Haines. The plot was the same as
always. They were all stuck inside the camp with an alien terror.
Panic and paranoia builds. One by one, the crew is either imitated or
killed out right. The climax results with just MacReady against the
thing. The only other difference in the story was, this time the
ending was changed.
MacReady doesn't win.
Chapter 8
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