His head in a plastic cradle, an IV of contrast solution pumping incrementally into a vein in his neck, his body covered with a warm blanket, Taggart listened to the incessant whir-click-bang-bang of the MRI as it ingested his body into a narrow tube. A red laser-centered his approach and the table he was lying on twitched in millimeter jerks, taking him deeper and deeper into the gaping maw.
'Just close your eyes and pretend not to care,' echoed in his mind, Dina's words of wisdom every time he'd had an MRI, and yet those helpful words still didn't help. 'Claustrophobia is a completely rational response to this,' he thought -- again -- as he lost sight of the room outside of the tube. 'Well, now I know what it feels like to be a meatball...'
Then the thought hit him: if I fart in here I'll die from the fumes.
So...Don't fart.
Whatever you do, don't fart.
"Oh, no," he moaned.
"What is wrong?" the technician running the exam said over the intercom.
"I'm gonna float an air muffin."
"You are what?"
"Fart. I'm gonna fart."
He heard laughter coming from the little office off the main equipment room.
"Yup. Here it comes."
"Do not hold it!"
"No choice now," he cried. "Sorry!"
The rumbling sound started in the lower ranges, drowning out the whirring sound of the sliding table, then grew louder and louder as the gas gained real speed, sounding a little like ripping cardboard before it slipped into high gear, then sounding more like a wounded duck by that point.
"Sorry about that!" Taggart said.
"At least we don't have to breathe it," the tech said -- just before the stench crept under the door to their little office.
Taggart smiled when he heard them coughing and retching: 'You know, it's the simple pleasures in life...' he thought as he heard one of them slapping a desktop, then running for open air.
A few minutes later, when things had settled down again, the tech came on again. "Sorry, but we must restart the test.
"Fine by me. Plenty more where that came from."
"We will try to hurry."
"Good idea."
+++++
Dina was waiting for him in the lounge; everyone was watching the latest news from Poland and the Czech Republic, where NATO forces were struggling to reach the front amidst waves of fleeing urban residents. There was only silence coming from Finland and Ukraine, and Dina looked at Taggart then at her watch as the orderly wheeled him into the room.
"That took much longer than expected," she said. "Was there a problem?"
"Yup. Major gas leak. Let's get out of here and find Rolf. I could sure use some Indian food right about now."
A lingering waft of fumes trailing his wheelchair hit about that time. "Oh, Henry! You didn't!"
"I did. More than once, as a matter of fact."
"You are eating too much salmon again. Your gas is beginning to smell just like Clyde's..."
"Thank you very much," he said in his best Elvis voice. "Now...Rolf, then Indian. I feel like I could eat a horse."
"You smell like you have been eating horse," the orderly said, causing Dina to cringe in horror.
Taggart shook his head. "You're just jealous."
"Of course I am," the boy said, "as it has been my life's ambition to fart just like you. By the way, do you think you could walk from here?"
+++++
As they walked up to Time Bandits, Taggart saw Rolf and Mike sitting in the cockpit and he smiled -- because he could just make out Dinky hovering at the masthead.
"You know, I think I'd better put on a fresh pair of underwear before we go anywhere."
Dina scowled. "On behalf of the people of Amsterdam, I thank you."
"How you doing, Henry?" Mike said as Taggart climbed on board.
"Splendid, as a matter of fact. A bag of platelets and some of Dina's magic elixir and I feel like a new man again!"
"Sounds like the plot of a new Dracula movie, if you ask me..." Mike said as he watched Henry disappear down the companionway.
Taggart rummaged through a drawer and found a new, tighter pair of undies and slipped into the head; a moment later Dinky appeared and hovered in front of his face, almost in contact with his forehead. A minute later he knew everything that Mike had done so far that day, and he shook his head -- though he smiled at the predictability of Mike's actions. After he changed clothes he posted back up to the cockpit...
"Anyone care for Indian food today?"
"Me!" shouted Rolf.
"Then we're off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Ah-hs." He leaned over and whispered in Dina's ear that he needed to talk with Mike while they walked, and she went and walked ahead with Rolf.
"So, you really feel that much better?" Mike said as he slowed to wait for Taggart.
"I do, actually. So, how did your errands go?"
"I went out to the new embassy, had a talk with the CIA's new head of station. She wants to take you out, now. I think I've convinced her that we need to let things rest for now, let things play out in the east."
"I take it they're not burning papers at the embassy yet?"
"No, but people are nervous."
"They should be, Mike. The world they've known is coming to an end, and now everyone knows it. The deck is being reshuffled -- with all the uncertainty that implies -- right in front of their faces."
"I take it you're not worried about..."
"Que Sera, Sera. Nothing I can do about those yahoos."
"I guess."
"I take it you still have a weapon with you?"
"Yes, of course."
"If it comes down to it, Mike, protect Dina and the boy."
Mike nodded and looked around, trying to spot a tail. "Have you seen the news?"
"Finland and Ukraine have fallen. Poland will go next. NATO appears stronger in the middle right now, the old Fulda Gap strategy I assume."
"People on the train were talking about getting out. Not many flights left to South America, if their gossip is reality-based. Very few incoming flights now."
"So the airlines will run out of airplanes here, then they'll be commandeered to fly troops to France."
They found an open restaurant and the nervous owners seated them and took their order.
"Why is everyone so nervous, Henry?" Rolf asked.
"Because they smelled us coming," Mike said...but Rolf wasn't going to play that game today.
"Henry? What is going on?"
"The Russians, Rolf."