WENN We Last Met... Part I
by Rebecca Immich
The green room, Friday, August 29, 4:41 p.m.
Betty stared at Pruitt's gun. This was all so absurd, she thought. How was Victor going to get out of this? How was I going to get out of this? She could hear Scott. "What a pedestrian password," he said, shaking his head as he opened the door. "Buy barley futures." Victor swung his gun around to point at Scott. Scott looked surprised to see him. "Victor Comstock. You're alive." Then he saw the gun pointing straight at him as Victor pulled back the hammer.
Betty was stunned. She said, not believing her eyes, "Scott." Now he was going to die.
"Hey, Betty," Scott tossed off. "I love you."
This was too much for Betty to handle. Victor, the man she loved, was going to kill Scott, the man who said he loved her. Betty closed her eyes and said the words that would stop everything. "Buy barley futures."
Victor's gun came to rest on Betty and slowly he pulled the trigger. Scott dropped the envelope he was carrying and grabbed Victor's arm. The gun went off and Betty collapsed to the floor
Pittsburgh General Hospital, Saturday, August 30, 9:00 am
"Betty. Betty." Someone was leaning over her. Betty shook her head, trying to clear the fog that had set in. She opened her eyes slowly. "Where...where am I?" she asked, noticing that Victor and Scott were standing by her bed. "Oh, it must have just been a dream. But," Betty said, frowning, "you were there. And so were you."
"Betty?" Scott asked. "It wasn’t a dream. You were did get shot."
Betty glanced at her surroundings, finally noticing that she was in a hospital. Betty could feel a dull aching in her head and there was a heavy bandage on her leg. "Okay guys, what happened?"
Victor spoke first. "I was under Nazi mind control. I was suppose to kill Rollie Pruitt when he gave me the password. But when you said the password by accident in studio A, I started to realize what was happening. Sherwood coming in like he did also helped me regain control of my senses."
"Then...why am I in the hospital?" Betty asked, still confused by Victor's explanation.
Victor opened his mouth again, but Scott interrupted. "Well, Betty, it's like this. Victor didn't have totally control over his actions quite yet. When you said 'Buy barley futures' he was going to shoot you. But he had to turn, giving me enough time to deflect his aim. Only I deflected it right into you. You had a bullet go through your leg." At Betty’s look of shock, Scott quickly reassured her, "It was only a deep flesh wound. But you hit your head when you passed out and so you have a pretty bad concussion."
Betty furrowed her brow. "What happened to Mr. Pruitt? I thought he was going to shoot me." Both men looked embarrassed and the room fell silent. "Scott, Victor, one of you should tell me," Betty demanded. "After all, I was there. Just not conscious."
"Oh all right," Victor said. "Pruitt escaped as we were, ah, tending to you."
"What do you mean, tending to me?" Betty asked.
Scott spoke up. "It was more me tending to you than Victor, but we won't get into that right now. Pull up a pillow, Betty. This may take a while."
The green room, Friday, August 29, 4:45 p.m.
After pulling the trigger, Victor shook his head. By now, Scott had let go of his arm and ran over to Betty. "Goddamn it!" he yelled. "Mackie! Someone, call an ambulance! Hey, Victor! Would you mind handing me something to stop the bleeding with?"
Victor stared at Scott, his mind still numb. Scott turned around and cursed Victor's uselessness. He ripped off his tie and found the source of the bleeding. It was coming from just above her left knee. Scott pushed her skirt up until he reached the wound. It was nasty looking, but Scott, accustomed to such things from the Spanish Civil War, just used his tie to fashion a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
By now, Victor finally realized where he was and came over to Betty's side. "Oh my god!" he exclaimed, looking at the amount of blood that had soaked into the carpeting. "Will she be okay?"
"Yeah, she'll be fine," Scott said. Then he muttered, "No thanks to you."
"What?" Victor asked.
"Oh, nothing." Scott said.
"No. I thought I distinctly heard you say 'No thanks to you.' Don't you realize that it's your fault I shot her."
Scott retorted, "Well, if I hadn't stopped you, you would have killed her. Victor, I love this woman. I couldn't let her die."
"Okay," Victor growled, as he began to get angry. "Who are you? And what claim do you have on Betty?"
"Actually, you might remember me. First, let's make sure an ambulance has been called." Scott walked out into the main desk and called for an ambulance directly from the switchboard. "Hey, Mackie!"
Mackie stuck his head out of the writer's room. "What?"
"Betty's been shot. You'd better go tell the others. They're all at the Buttery. I called an ambulance and she'll be taken care of shortly."
Mackie walked toward the front desk. "Sh-shot?" he questioned in disbelief. "How-how did that happen? I didn't hear anything."
"It's a long story. Trust me," Scott said. "You'll hear it all later. Right now, I suggest you leave before the ambulance comes."
Mackie left for the Buttery after giving Scott a confused look. "Sure. I guess you know what’s best."
As the door slammed behind Mackie, Victor entered the hallway. "Did you call the police? Where's Pruitt? We really should find him."
"First things first," Scott said. "You have to hide. With that police uniform on, someone is bound to get suspicious. I'll check for Pruitt, but I think he took off while we were preoccupied with Betty."
"I know the perfect place to hide," Victor said. "It's how I got into this station without being noticed. There are some air ducts over the storage room. Get me after Betty is taken to the hospital. How are you going to explain the shooting?"
"Don't worry about me," Scott smiled. "Betty didn't call me the king of Blarney for nothing."
Footsteps could be heard outside the door and Victor took off for the storage room. "Someone called for an ambulance?" a man with a stretcher asked. There was another man following close behind him.
"Yes," Scott said. "Follow me. Betty Roberts was shot in the green room."
They followed Scott through the doors to Betty. "We'd better get her to a hospital," they said. They loaded Betty onto the stretcher and took her to the ambulance. "Would you like to ride in the ambulance with her?" one of the men asked Scott.
"Yes." Scott walked down to the ambulance with the paramedics and Betty. He hopped into the ambulance and held Betty's hand as the ambulance rushed to the hospital. Scott had to fill out medical forms for Betty, using information he found in her purse. He had never learned so much about her as he did that evening when he had to fill out every bit of information about her medical and family history. Scott also talked to the police after being interrogated about the shooting.
Finally, after talking to the police, Scott called WENN.
"Hello, WENN," Gertie answered the phone.
"Hi Gertie," Scott said. "How are things at the station? Did Mackie get everyone straightened out?"
"Scott! What happened to Betty?" Gertie shouted into the phone. "How did she get shot? What happened?"
"Gertie, I can't tell you over the phone," Scott said. "I'll be back at the station in an hour or so. Tell everyone not to worry. Betty's going to be fine. I have to go now. Bye."
"But Scott..." Gertie began to say when she heard the telltale dial tone. "Scott! You--"
"Was that news about Betty?" Maple asked. "Is she okay? And where's Scotty?"
"I guess Scott's at the hospital with Betty. He didn't tell me much; just that Betty is going to be fine. Scott will be here in an hour or so. I think then he's finally going to tell us what's going on around here."
WENN, Friday, August 29, 10:05 p.m.
Scott finally walked back into the station. Gertie was waiting for him at the desk and pounced on him the minute he came in. "What happened to Betty?" she asked anxiously.
"Gertie, I'll talk later. I have something to take care of right now." With that, Scott brusquely walked past Gertie into the storage room.
"He has something to do in the storage room?" Gertie muttered. This was going to be a long night. They still had almost two hour until the sign-off time.
Once safely inside the storage closet, Scott began to knock on the walls. "Victor. Victor," Scott said aimlessly, wondering where Victor was.
From the ceiling emerged Victor Comstock. "Is Betty okay? What did the doctors say? I don't think I hit her in an extremely vital spot," he babbled.
"Calm down, Victor," Scott soothed. "Betty is going to be okay. The bullet only grazed her leg. All the blood was from a deep flesh wound, but she did suffer from a severe concussion. She should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow night."
"Thank god," Victor said with a sigh of relief. "You have no idea how worried about her I was. All those hours stuck in those air ducts! It's my turn to ask you some questions. Who are you? I don't recognize you at all. What claim do you have on Betty?"
"I'm Scott Sherwood, ex-station manager and current actor at WENN. I don't really have a claim on Betty. Unless you count the fact that I really like her. Love her in fact."
"How you dare you talk that way about my girl!" Victor shouted.
"Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. You don't want the others to become suspicious. Are you sure you don't remember me?" Scott asked. Victor shook his head. "You probably wouldn't. Well, I met you in a pub. In London. You had a book of limericks that you were trying to take to Pittsburgh and I offered to take it for you. You know, the mail was really slow. You were passing your time in the pub, talking about the good old days at WENN."
Victor frowned and said, "It's coming back to me, vaguely. Didn't you offer to take the book after you heard about Betty? About how she was such a sweet and smart girl."
Scott had the decency to look embarrassed. "I just wondered what it would be like to come home to a girl named Betty Roberts. Your life was so different than the one I've lived," Scott said slowly. "So . . . I forged a letter of recommendation while I sailed to America saying that I was to take over the job of station manager of WENN. I didn't plan on staying so long, just until you came back. Then you died. The whole place seemed like an orphanage and I just couldn't leave. I had to help take care of WENN and Betty. She was truly grief-stricken after your death. I felt like I needed to make amends for the way I got your job, so I moved around some funds from the sponsors to create the Victor Comstock memorial. Eventually, Pruitt found me out. He did a surprise audit and I got kicked out. Betty also found out about my forged letter. But with the departure of Jeff, there was an empty spot for an actor. Enter me, Scott Sherwood, taking a pay cut and a large slice of humble pie to continue working at WENN. Next thing I know, I break another Nazi secret code and Betty ends up getting shot. Then you turn up alive. How can you be alive? I thought you died in London."
"It's a looooong story. Are you sure you want to hear it?" Victor asked, looking exhausted.
"If I don't know, it would look strange to the others. After all, we are going to have to tell them that you are back," Scott said, "and what really happened at the station."
Victor smiled and said, "Well, since you asked. I am Jonathan Arnold."
"What?" Scott practically shouted. "You're that turncoat American?"
"Keep it down, Sherwood. Like you said, we don't want the others getting suspicious. When the bomb fell on the BBC, I escaped alive. I collapsed on a double-decker bus and was taken to Charing Cross hospital. The military convinced me at the hospital that I would make the perfect spy. I was presumed dead and had no family or attachments. I traveled to Berlin where I let my sympathies be known to the right people. From there on, I had access to secret German files. I was suppose to work there until the end of the war, but I was allowed one visit to the states to wrap up my personal affairs. That was the evening," Victor said, "when Cutter Dunlap started acting crazy. Betty and I planted those crazy ideas in his head so no one would become suspicious of his talking with me."
"Oh, I get it," Scott said, finally understanding what Victor meant. "You must have told Betty you were alive then."
"Yes, I did. I remember now, when I was leaving, she asked me if she could tell anyone else that I was alive. She said, 'What about Scott Sherwood? He's taken your death so hard.' I didn't know who you were at the time, but now I know. Who the hell do you think you are Sherwood! Trying to take over my job! My girl!" Victor began to shout.
"Whoa. Hold on a minute. Victor..." Scott pleaded with him.
Scott tried to placate him, but Victor was too wound up. He swung back and punched Scott as hard as he could in the jaw. "Damn! My hand!" Victor said.
Scott sat down, nursing his tender jaw. "Your hand," he said. "Look at my jaw." Already, discoloration could be faintly seen on Scott's jaw. "I'm sorry. We should discuss this later. Could you just tell me what was going on in the green room?"
Victor, cradling his hand, spoke again. "I had been taken out of Berlin by someone. I'm not sure who did it, but I was ordered to kill whoever said 'Buy barley futures' to me in the green room. The only problem was that Betty said it to me in Studio A. I began to realize what they wanted me to do. I couldn't kill Betty. I didn't want to kill anyone. Then I realized that the person waiting for me was not my contact. While I was waiting for you to come back, I pieced together everything. Pruitt is a Nazi sympathizer, like that guy whose code you broke. Pruitt must have broken into my strongbox and took out the name of my contact. He must have gotten my contact to talk somehow and then taken me out of Germany."
"Well, now that we've got all that straight, perhaps we should go tell the others." Scott glanced at his watch. "Well, would you look at the time? We've got fifteen minutes before that station goes off the air."
"Hold on a second, Sherwood," Victor said. "What exactly did you tell the police?"
"The truth, of course." Victor gave Scott a shocked look. "No, not the whole truth. I told them that I had found one of our sponsors broadcasting messages to Nazi saboteurs through his advertising. I then told the police the leader of the whole group was none other than Rollie Pruitt. He threatened Betty and me with a gun after we informed we were going to call the police. He tried to shoot Betty, but I deflected the bullet into her leg. As I tended to her, Pruitt to ok off. End of story. I can't bel ieve it, but the police actually bought the story."
"One problem, Sherwood," Victor said. "Betty is going to need to corroborate your story. She doesn't know what you told the police."
Scott smiled his devious smile. "But she will. I left detailed instructions to tell the police about her injury. She'll do it to protect you. Now, off to the green room."
Victor and Scott walked out of the tiny storage closet, stretching their cramped muscles. Victor went into the green room to wait for the staff. Scott went into the control room. C. J. was sitting there, monitoring the broadcast as usual. He looked up at Scott. "Are we almost done tonight?" Scott asked.
"Mackie's almost at the sign-off," C.J. said. "How is Betty?"
"She's doing quite well. Could you tell everyone to meet in the green room after the sign-off? I have some important and surprising news to tell everyone."
"Sure," C.J. said. Scott started to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway. "Do you know where Hilary and Jeff are?" he asked C.J. "They should be present for this meeting."
"You could try calling Hilary at her apartment," C.J. said. "Gertie will know the number. What happened to your face? It looks like someone punched you pretty hard."
Scott replied, "Tell everyone to meet me in the hallway. Don't go in the green room quite yet. You'll hear the whole story later, bruised chins and all." He left the room and headed to the switchboard. "Gertie, could you call Hilary for me?"
"Why?" Gertie asked with a puzzled look on her face.
"Just do it, Gertie. I'll talk to her." Gertie dialed the number and when Hilary picked up, she handed the phone to Scott. "Hilary," Scott said, "I need you at the studio now." He waited for a moment as she spoke. "Yes, I know it's late and that you don't work on weekends, but this is really important. Betty's been shot."
A cry could be heard from the receiver. "No, no. It's nothing too serious. But there's other news. I want to tell everyone at once. Do you know where Jeff is?" Hilary replied something and Scott nodded his head. "Okay. Well, I guess he can find out later. Come to the studio as soon as you can." Hilary replied once again. "Bye Hilary. See you soon." Scott handed the phone back to Gertie.
"What was that about?" Gertie asked. "Is there some bad news?"
Scott looked worried. "Hilary doesn't know where Jeff is. He tried to follow her home, but she locked him out. I hope he's okay. No one seems to know where to reach him." Scott looked at Gertie. "Could you stay for a few more minutes? I have some important announcements to make to everyone. Hilary should be here in about ten minutes."
Gertie frowned. "Well, I wanted to go home, but I guess if it's important, I can stay for a few more minutes."
The rest of the cast had gathered in the hallway outside studio A. "Hey, Scott," Maple said, "what's this big news? Why can't you tell us now?"
Scott walked over and said, "Wait until Hilary gets here. She should be here shortly."
As if on cue, the door slammed open. "Scott Sherwood," Hilary spat out, "this had better be important. You woke me up." Hilary was wearing her coat tossed over her pajamas.
"There's really no way prepare you for this. If only Betty was here," Scott said, his voice trailing off. "Well, just follow me into the green room." Scott entered the green room. Victor sat at the table, nervously tapping him fingers against the tabletop. As they entered the doorway, the cast froze, shocked at who they saw.
Mackie was the first one to react. "Victor," he said, "aren't you dead? Is this some kind of joke, Scott?"
Victor stood up and said, "This is no joke. I'm really here, alive."
"This is not possible," Hilary said. "You died when the bomb fell on the BBC. You died. Jeff is the one who survived."
Victor frowned and said, "Where is Jeff?"
Hilary sighed, saying, "I told everyone that I didn't want to talk to him ever again. I locked him out of my apartment. He left after pounding on the door for an hour. Where he went, I don't know. Or care."
The rest of the cast looked slightly taken aback by Hilary's announcement. "Hilary," Maple ventured, "perhaps Jeff has something important to tell you. Maybe you should just listen to him."
Hilary replied back in a nasty tone, "I will the day hell freezes over."
"Well, I hate to interrupt," Scott said, "but shouldn't we focus on the issue at hand? Aren't you all the slightest bit curious about how Victor managed to survive after bombing in London?"
Everyone focused once again on Victor. "Yes, how is that possible?" Mackie asked.
"Well, Victor said, settling in for yet another long explanation, "it's a long story. You might want to get comfortable." The cast sat on the sofa and pulled chairs around the table. Victor continued with his narrative, filling them in on all of the details.
"You were here when I interviewed Cutter Dunlap?" Eugenia asked. "Is that why Betty was acting so strange?"
"Yes, I was here. I was suppose to be wrapping up my personal affairs and getting in touch with the military," Victor said, "and I had to let Betty know that I was really alive. I committed high treason by telling her."
Mackie said, "So that's why Betty was always defending Jonathan Arnold. She knew the truth the whole time. Why didn't you tell all of us?"
"I couldn't tell all of you," Victor said, "because if anyone involved with the Nazi saboteurs found out that I was Jonathan Arnold, I would have been killed. The only person I could trust was Betty. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't take the risk. After all, coded Nazi messages kept going through this station. I knew all about the messages, but just not who was sending them."
Maple looked confused. "But I thought you said that you had to stay in Berlin until the war was over."
"Yes."
Maple continued, "Then why are you here now? Shouldn't you be in the heart of Berlin, broadcasting messages of Nazi domination to the American public? And you never did tell us what really happened to Betty."
"Actually, those questions are all related," Victor said. "Mr. Pruitt is actually a Nazi saboteur. He found the name of my contact in the strongbox in my desk and used him to find out where I was. The Nazis were informed of my deception and I was placed under mind control to become useful to them. I was suppose to come back to WENN and shoot Betty when Pruitt said 'Buy barley futures.' Or at least, that's what he thought. I was actually programmed to shoot whoever said the password to me in the green room. I almost shot Betty in studio A and when we came into the green room I couldn't shoot anyone else. Then Pruitt threatened Betty. Sherwood came in saying the password, so naturally I was going to shoot him. And finally, Betty said the password. I was ready going to shoot her. Sherwood stopped me and the bullet only grazed her leg. After the gun went off, the brainwashing was finished. While Sherwood attended to Betty, Pruitt took off. He obviously didn't want to be apprehended by the authorities. I guess Sherwood here can give you the latest update on Betty's condition."
Scott stood up and said, "Betty is doing fine. She only has a deep flesh wound. She should be able to walk in the next couple of days, but when she comes back, she’ll have to use crutches. Betty also suffered a severe concussion from hitting her head, but she should leave the hospital by tomorrow night." Scott sat back down, his report on Betty's condition complete.
"Thank heavens for that!" Gertie exclaimed. "I was so worried about that poor girl. Well, can we leave now? I've enough surprises for one evening."
Victor said, "You cannot tell anyone what you just learned from me. Not until I get in touch with my contact and Military Intelligence. Hilary, before you leave, could I talk to you?"
The others got up, preparing to leave, and Hilary walked over to Victor's side. "What do you want, Victor?"
"This is important. Why don't we go to my office?" Victor said, leading the way. They entered the office and Victor took his customary seat behind the desk. "Hilary, if Jeff talks to you at all this evening, I need you to tell him something. He needs to get in touch with WENN as soon as possible."
"Victor, I know you've just been through a very traumatic event," Hilary said, "but I will not talk to that man! Not even to give him a message."
"Hilary, why won't you talk to Jeff? What did he do that was so terrible?"
"He married another woman. Some Czechoslovakian woman. They got married while Jeff was in London. Then she came back here." Hilary shuddered and emphasized, "I try not to think about it."
Victor asked, "Is her name, by chance, Pavla Nemkova?"
Hilary looked at Victor, surprised. "Yes, but how did you know that?"
"I can't give you all the details, but she is a Nazi spy. One of the top agents, of a matter of fact. Jeff was my contact and the Nazi saboteurs must have used him to get to me. I'm not sure of all the details, but before I was caught, I found out that Pavla was being used as bait to catch a double agent. I didn't think they were on to me until it was too late. I think Jeff will be able to give you a lot more details, but right now I would just like to get in contact with him."
"Jeff is involved in this? But...but how?" Hilary questioned. "He never told me anything."
Victor smiled and said sympathetically, "He was instructed not to tell you anything. For all the military knew, you could have been the Nazi saboteur at WENN."
Hilary was visibly upset. She screeched, "Then how come you told Betty? Why didn't Jeff trust me?!?"
"Hilary, now is not the time to ask yourself these questions. Perhaps Jeff felt it was best if you didn't have to worry about him so much. You have no idea how guilty I felt about burdening Betty with my secrets," Victor said thoughtfully. "War changes everything. You should be at home getting some rest. Maybe Jeff will come to your apartment again and you could talk to him."
"Yes," Hilary said in a daze. "That probably would be best. Victor, could you take me home?"
There was a knock on the door. "Yes," Victor answered. "Come on in."
The door opened and C.J. asked, "Victor, do you need a place to stay this evening? I was wondering if..."
"C.J., could you please help Hilary get home?" Victor ordered. "I think I'll be staying at the station this evening. Just in case."
C.J. nodded in agreement and helped escort Hilary from the room. Victor sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk. He gave a sigh of relief. Finally, everything was over with . . . for this evening. Then Scott entered the room. "Hey, Victor," he said. "Would you like to stay at my apartment tonight? It's nothing fancy, but you could sleep on the sofa. We could get a bite to eat at the new pizzeria. I doubt any one would recognize you there."
"Well, Sherwood," Victor said, "I really should stay here. My contact might try to contact me. That is, if he gets in touch with Hilary."
"You mean Jeff is your contact?" Scott said. "Don't worry. If Jeff catches up with Hilary, I have the feeling they'd probably end up fighting and then making up for a very long time. You'll be safe until morning and I could loan you some clothes so you can get out of that uniform. They might fit. We could go visit Betty tomorrow morning. Visitor hours start at nine."
"Okay, Sherwood. But why are you being so nice to me?" Victor asked. "I thought you loved Betty. And she obviously likes me."
Scott smiled his devious smile. "It never hurts to know the competition. I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." With that, the two men locked up the station and walked out into the balmy evening.
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