Fan Fiction: Crossovers
Wrath of Khan

  At his apartment, Stephen was watching the tape he had borrowed from the police. On the screen, Safford was looking out the window. His eyes were glazed, his mouth was not visible but by watching his throat Stephen could see that his Jaw muscles were moving. Was he talking to himself?

  Safford stood up and wandered over to his desk. He wrote on some papers and then signed his name. Stephen paused the tape at that point. Safford was not looking down at the paper. Stephen pulled over his own paper and tried to write his signature without looking. He tried a dozen times and failed miserably. Yet Safford did it. Running the tape again, Safford stood and mailed the papers.

  Stephen stopped the tape, and looked at the copies of the evidence papers he had made. Safford had changed the order of munitions, and sent the surplus of bombs and missiles to a new location. The second paper was a report from the Internal Affairs office. I.A. had noticed that the amounts were wrong on the requisitions, and sent an auditor who had found out what had happened. Safford was arrested for embezzlement and fraud.

  Something wasn't right. He was stealing bombs and missiles. The kind of weaponry that was useless without an aircraft. And why did he not even look at what he was doing? It was like he was in a trance. A trance. Something about this seemed familiar. But he could not place where. Okay assuming that Safford had a reason for stealing bombs, and so many of them, what would the reason be?

  Someone was paying him to do it. Okay, assuming there was a buyer for the munitions, he would need aircraft to use them. Stephen checked the copies again. The bombs and missiles would need a compatible aircraft to be useful. American military aircraft. Where would they get those? Stephen snapped his fingers; there was an aircraft production factory just a mile from New York. Now, how could he find out if extra aircraft had been made? The same way that the authorities found out about the munitions. The I.A.

  Stephen pressed his ring and headed outside. By the time he got there Moe was waiting with his cab.

  "Moe," he said, getting into the cab. "Help me out here, does the military Internal Affairs have an office around here?"

  Moe knew this town better than anyone. "Yeah boss, it's at the federal building."

  "Let's go Shrevvy."

  Moe knew that tone. He gunned the engine and the cab took off.

  Daring to look at the backseat in the mirror, he saw Stephen open a hidden compartment under the seat. Out came the black cloak and hat. Putting them on he slapped full magazines into his automatics. The snap of the jerked cloak sounded like quiet thunder.

  Spooked, Moe grimaced and gunned the engine again.

  A whispered laugh trailed the cab into the night.