Chapter Six
New York City
Father and daughter strolled up Fifth Avenue on a brisk mid-October Sunday afternoon without any awareness that a world existed around them. The trees in Central Park were shedding their leaves in preparation for their long winter hibernation. Manhattan Island would soon be a wondrous place indeed as prophesied by the song writers. Victor Cranston and his daughter moved along briskly, impelled by the need to visit old friends. Sean and Marissa O’Rourke had extended the invitation with a hidden admonition that a refusal would not be safe or recommended. Victor had quickly accepted the invitation.
Now, as he strove to keep up with his daughter, he wondered how well the couple had handled the traumatic reunion after Sean had been rescued from Western China from captivity at the hands of the Chinese Master Criminal, Kang Sheng. He ignored his part in the thrilling rescue as well as his past involvement with the woman in a star-crossed affair that had ended with the man’s reappearance. Victor closed his mind to the past as he arrived at 848.
Fred, the doorman, gave out a lusty yell as he spotted Victor.
“Doctor, Doctor Cranston, where have you been?”
“I’ve been here and there, doing this and that. This is my daughter Antonia.”
“How are you, young lady?”
“I’m well, thank you.”
“Fred, Sean and Marissa are waiting for us. Do I have to produce ten IDs. a passport and a visa?”
“Go right in, my friend. They’ll both be happy to see you.”
The view from the 50th floor was just as spectacular as on Victor’s first visit. Long Island lay spread out in a vast sprawl Eastward. Both the doctor and the girl made no sound whatever on the deep gold carpeting. He took a deep breath and pushed the door buzzer. Melodious chimes answered him from inside the apartment. The door opened and Victor began his ordeal.
“Good evening, Doctor, ” said the butler. “It’s nice to see you again. Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke are expecting you. I will notify them of your arrival.”
Antonia became enthralled with the chandelier and the mirrors adorning the foyer, the size of a small dance floor. Sean showed up first.
“Victor, my old comrade-in-arms. How have you been? It’s about time you showed up.”
Victor took in the Irishman’s wavy blond hair, his rugged good looks, his tall figure and decided that the man had renewed his zest for living.
The doctor held out his hand. “Sean O’Rourke, it’s great to see you again. This is my daughter, Antonia.”
“How are you, young lady? You look fine, Vic. Life has been good to you.”
“Are we going to stand here all-day exchanging platitudes? Where is she?”
“She’s waiting for you. Come on in.”
Marissa rose from the settee and came forward, a smile on her beautiful face. Her red hair was just as devastating, but her face showed a radiance that is seldom seen on a human being. It was the face of someone who knows she is loved, who knows she is appreciated, who is at peace with herself and life in general.
“Hello, Victor.”
“Hello, Marissa.”
Both man and woman looked at each other without speaking. Victor went back to the first time he had seen her in this very same apartment and felt the same way—dumb, gawky, and terrified.
“I feel the same way as I did on my first visit.”
The woman moved quickly and embraced the man who had restored her to life, not once but twice. She remained that way without speaking. Then both parties gave way to their emotions. Both cried unashamedly. Sean looked on, a sense of thanksgiving and happiness threatening to overwhelm him also. Antonia took in the scene and realized that her father would have quite a story to tell her someday. She remained quiet but pensive.
Marissa finally disengaged herself, kissed the doctor on the cheek and gazed at him for a long time before speaking in a trembling voice.
“Victor, my old dear friend, how nice to see you again. I want to thank you for making Sean and myself so happy and so contented with life. How have you been?”
“Nice to see you again, Marissa. I’ve been fine. I would say you are seven months along?”
The woman gave out a joyful laugh and agreed.
“Who’s your doctor?”
“Maria Sanchez from New York Neuro.”
“You are in good hands.”
Sean interjected a comment. “Let’s have a special martini while awaiting another O’Rourke gourmet meal from Moe Goldberg’s deli. He has the best pastrami and potato salad in the city.”
Marissa embraced Antonia while saying. “Antonia, you are becoming devastatingly beautiful. Nice to see you again.”
“Thank you.”
For the next few hours there followed the typical give-and-take discussion such as practiced by old friends. The young girl took in the swift verbal exchanges without missing a word as she sat there, wide-eyed, and silent. Uppermost on O’Rourke’s mind was the latest Cranston exploits in Mongolia.
“So, after you dumped me in the States, you returned to Mongolia? Why?”
“I had made those people a promise to return after they had been so generous to us.”
Marissa asked, a hint of horror on her tongue, “The rats, Victor, the rats. How did you survive?”
“By showing typical Cranston strength, Cranston bravery, Cranston aplomb, Cranston luck. The Mongolian soldiers pulled me out and then used flamethrowers to dispose of our furry friends. It was no big deal, really.”
Marissa became serious as she addressed Victor.
“What are your plans for the future, Vic?”
“I must check on the Foundation and my finances. As for the future, I don’t really know. I’m not going back into the OR. Thanks for your donation.”
“That was Lawrence’s idea.”
The Doctor smiled and did not answer.
“At the lunch held on my return, I did not see Andy Douglas. Do you know where he is?”
Sean and Marissa exchanged serious looks. Victor glanced from one to the other but remained silent.
Marissa took Antonia’s hand and said gaily, “Come, little one. Let me show you the kitchen. Maybe we can make cookies while the men talk business.”
“Well, Sean, out with it.”
“Andy is the new corporate Vice-President for security. He’s away on a visit to —Russia.”
“Russia, are you joking?”
The Irishman became serious, “Vic, this is for your ears only. In 1992 the Secretary of the Department of Energy approached the Mansfield Board with a novel proposition. The Senate had ratified the START 2 treaty that laid the groundwork for the dismantling of nuclear tipped missiles on both sides. Since the U.S.S.R. had just broken up, the Russians had neither the manpower, nor the financial resources for the job. So, the U.S. donated scientists, engineers, and money to do the task. To supervise the undertaking, the department heads offered Mansfield a contract to do just that. There have been no problems so far—so far. Andy left two weeks ago.”
“Alone?”
“He picked up two Russian scientists as company.”
Victor became concerned, “When is he returning?”
“He should be back next week. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”
“At this time Russia is not your typical tourist mecca. I hear all kinds of bad stories about the theft of uranium, plutonium, hardware. How are you disposing of the plutonium?”
“We are shipping it back to the States for processing and disposal.”
“That stuff has a half-life of 26,000 years. Did you ever have any second thoughts about the project?”
“The decisions were made before I came on board. However, I have heard no dissenting voices on the subject.”
“Those clowns did not think about the negative side. All they probably saw were dollar bills.”
Marissa returned to announce that the gourmet meal was on the way. Victor held back any more comments as all four happy people enjoyed the pastrami.
Victor left after dinner. Marissa scolded him for not having come sooner and made him promise to return. She had no idea how prophetic she was.
Victor felt that old premonition about trouble. He was surprised to discover that he was looking for it. Sandra had been right: he was a confirmed thrill-addict! Antonia did not say anything as she observed her pensive father staring out the train window. She might have been afraid for him if she could have read his thoughts. On the other hand, it might mean that he was thinking of those far-away places with the strange-sounding names. She grinned inwardly. Perhaps she could talk her father into taking her along. It would sure beat working on math problems!
