Play It Again Sam Pt 05

Author's note:

This is part 5 of a six part story. The central theme is a version of the movie Groundhog Day. Sorry for the delay, but this chapter has a lot of moving parts and it took me longer to put together than anticipated.

Friday July 15

th

, 2016 Day 1403

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

I slowly sat up in bed.

I finally knew what happened at 4:58 and 26 seconds every day.

It had been over fast, a fraction of a second. It was so quick, it was more impression than memory. But I knew what I had seen...

A mushroom cloud.

....

I might be the first person to ever weep tears of joy at the sight of a nuclear explosion. It was immediately clear to me that the explosion and my time loop were connected. I'd never considered that something external was triggering my daily reset.

But there was no doubt about it.

Some quick internet research confirmed what I was thinking. Even the largest nuclear bombs ever made wouldn't have a blast radius that reached Trenton from New York. Depending on the winds, Trenton could get caught in the radioactive fallout, but that wouldn't kill me instantly.

So if the blast itself wasn't killing me every day, why did I reset at the moment it went off? The time loop

had

to be directly tied to the bomb.

What made me cry with happiness was that there was an obvious way to escape the time loop- stop the nuclear bomb from going off.

....

I immediately began my investigation.

First, I rented a helicopter. Actually I chartered a flight from Trenton to New York. The charter thought I was just a VIP commuting in early. I timed our departure to put us five miles away from New York at the appointed time.

At 4:55, I signaled the pilot over the intercom. I had given him a big tip before the flight and told him I might want to do some sight-seeing on the way in.

"Could you just hover here a few minutes? And turn a little so I can get a good view of the city."

"No problem, sir. Let me know when you're ready to continue."

We were about to get knocked from the sky, but he didn't need to know that. He'd be fine tomorrow.

When the bomb went off, I was ready.

I had a much better view this time, but it was still blindingly fast. I wasn't looking at the mushroom cloud itself. I was looking at the ground, trying to find where it started. By the time I realized I was looking in the wrong place, I was waking up the next morning.

I repeated the process three more times before I narrowed it down to east Manhattan. That was as close as I could get to discovering ground zero using this method. The closer I got, the more my senses were overwhelmed.

That was the easy part.

Finding the

exact

location proved much more difficult.

At ground level, or even from the air, it was impossible to discern anything from inside the blast radius. Standing in New Jersey, I could tell the blast was coming from the north. Standing in Manhattan...I couldn't tell shit. It came from everywhere around me. My air reconnaissance told me it was on the eastern side of the island, but that was still a fucking ginormous haystack to find my needle.

If the bomb was detonated remotely, it could be anywhere. I'd have to search building to building and room to room. I'd have to look in every car, dumpster, and basement in Manhattan.

I'd do it, but that was a last resort.

I was going to work on the theory that if I found the location, there would be some indication. My assumption was that this done by terrorists of some flavor. And while a foreign government would nuke New York from a distance, terrorists would have boots on the ground.

To find ground zero, I started with the most likely targets of terrorism. I wandered the streets of Manhattan at night, looking for anything unusual or suspicious.

I thought the most likely target was the U.N. building. I spent all day casing the place, and watched it into the night. It was a big place, and I probably would have needed several nights to watch it from every angle, but I tabled it after one. There was just too much security there. I couldn't see anyone trying to sneak a nuclear warhead onto the grounds.

I didn't really know what I was looking for, I just hoped I'd know it when I saw it.

Every night I searched a different area. Times Square, Carnegie Hall, Rockefeller Center, the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center Memorial. I went to colleges, museums, and offices of major companies. I spent several weeks combing Central Park.

I searched for several months before I found anything interesting.

...

Friday July 15

th

, 2016 Day 1531

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

It was getting close to 4am and I was walking west on E. 57

th

St. I crossed Park Ave. and ran into a roadblock. There were wooden traffic barriers blocking the street. I looked both ways. I could just barely make out another roadblock on 58

th

. 56

th

was clear. Looking straight ahead I could see more barriers on Madison Ave. I walked up to 57

th

and looked across to Madison- more barriers.

The entire block was cordoned off. That's unusual, but not unheard of. There is always some kind of construction going on in New York. But I couldn't see any workers, and the city generally didn't allow street closures unless there was actual work being done.

The barriers blocked off the sidewalks, but New Yorkers as a rule don't give a shit about pedestrian laws. There were people on the street, but not many at that hour.

I stepped around the barrier and walked slowly down the street, looking all around at the surrounding buildings.

I was halfway to Madison when I noticed something strange. There were a couple guys in maintenance uniforms loitering outside the building at the corner of 57

th

and Park. Night was when janitors and maintenance crews descended on New York.

But these two weren't working. They weren't doing anything. They weren't smoking, they weren't talking, they weren't sitting and resting. They were just standing, separated by about thirty feet. If it wasn't for their uniforms, they could have been taken for security guards.

In fact, ever since I stopped and looked at them, they had been staring right back at

me.

As I watched, one of them said something, but he appeared to be talking to the air. He looked up slightly at the building behind him and I could see some kind of Bluetooth device in his ear.

I heard a sound like a phonebook being dropped on a table, and then I was looking up at the sky.

...

Friday July 15

th

, 2016 Day 1532

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

I had been shot.

The last time I had been shot was by the police in a drug bust. I was guessing this time I had been shot with a much bigger bullet, because I died much faster. Maybe a rifle...

I was hopeful that I had found the place, but I had to be sure. It was possible I had just managed to stumble across some other crime in progress. When I thought about it, it was kind of amazing that I hadn't been shot or stabbed more often. I had explored virtually every part of the city with no regard to personal safety.

That night found me once again walking up 57

th

St. This time I made sure that I was on the same sidewalk as the fake "janitors" and the building they were apparently guarding. I'd seen the night before that they didn't harass pedestrians so long as they kept moving. They had only shot me when I took an obvious interest in them.

There had only been a few other people walking on that street, given the hour and the barricades. I wondered if my shooting had started a bloodbath. Well...that wasn't on me.

During my time in the loop, I killed myself about a dozen times. I only did it after I had already been killed once and knew I would come back. I looked at it sort of like hitting the reset button on a video game. I would just want to give up on that particular day and start again. Which isn't to say I took it lightly. No, I had to be very depressed to resort to suicide.

But I had never killed anyone else, or even seriously injured someone. That's just not in my make-up.

So I was I little conflicted about what I was about to do. These men may not be the bombers, but they were certainly murderers.

I got over it.

Tonight I was wearing a large hoodie, not my usual attire. I walked by the first "janitor" a few steps. When I was about halfway between the two, I pulled my hands from my front pocket, along with my neighbor's Glock 17.

Other than firing rounds directly into my own head, the closest thing I had to experience with guns was paintball. But it's hard to miss from less than fifteen feet.

Using a two-handed grip I fired twice into the guy in front of me. In my peripheral vision I could see him start to fall as I turned and fire two more at the man I had just walked by.

I was aiming for center mass. My first shot hit dead center in his chest, but the second kicked up and I watched as a big wet chunk of his neck flew to the side.

For a split second the sight paralyzed me, before adrenaline kicked in- the sniper! I hurriedly ducked through the doors to the lobby. I heard a muffled thump just like the night before, followed by the smack of a round hitting the concrete where I'd been standing.

As soon as the door swung shut behind me I was bent over retching. Shooting terrorists seems morally unambiguous, but I wasn't mentally prepared to watch someone die by my hand.

In front of the doors was a ten foot entry corridor that opened into the lobby of the building. I gathered myself and brought my gun up. I had to search this building and see if the bomb was here. I certainly hoped so after I'd shot two men.

Ahead of me, I could see the lobby. To my right was a bank of elevators. Directly ahead was small café, probably to serve coffee to arriving workers, but closed and shuttered now. To the left the lobby opened up too far for me to see. I assumed it was some kind of information desk and/or seating area.

I edged my way up the left wall and peeked around the corner...SHIT!

I jerked back so hard I fell on my back, as the corner where I had been standing began to disintegrate in a hail of masonry. A continuous stream of bullets slammed into the walls and floor, accompanied by a sound like a giant band saw.

When I'd looked around the corner, I had been able to catch a brief glimpse of the rest of the lobby. There were several chairs and couches, but in the center was an information desk. There had been another fake janitor at the desk, behind some kind of massive machine gun. I don't know my weapons, but it looked like something that would give Rambo a hard-on. It had been mounted on a tripod with belt-fed ammunition.

The gun was turning the entryway into swiss cheese. I could barely see through the clouds of dust from the building's concrete foundation. I was being pelted with rock chips from the granite floor.

I had to curl up and protect my head from flying rocks. I was covered in cuts and concrete dust. I probably looked like a powdered jelly doughnut.

The whir of the machine gun cut off. He had to change ammo belts!

I scrambled to get around the corner and shoot him before he could reload.

Before I could get there-

FLASH

...

Friday July 15

th

, 2016 Day 1532

"What is love? Baby don't hurt me....don't hurt me....no more"

Now I knew that I'd found the bomb site. It had gone off early.

My assault must have made them detonate before they planned. That could be a problem.

But now that I'd found what I was looking for, I didn't rush back and attack the building again that night. My idea from the beginning was to find the bomb and then plan out my response meticulously. I was praying that stopping this explosion would end my loop.

But if the loop ended, I had to be prepared.

For one thing, guns were out. New York has some of the strictest guns laws in the nation. Saving a couple million lives would buy me a lot of forgiveness, but why complicate my life? There was no possible way for me to legally obtain and carry a gun in NYC, no matter how much money I was willing to spend. Not in one day.

Although... if I took a gun from one of the terrorists...

Yes, that could work. If I brought my own gun to the battle there would be awkward questions. But if I used one I had taken from them I'd be golden.

The gun problem illustrated the larger issue- if stopping the nuke ended the time loop, it would throw me into the national spotlight. Heavily armed terrorists were planning on detonating a nuclear weapon in New York City...there would be no keeping that quiet.

If I was being honest, I probably could have prevented the explosion while remaining anonymous. I could gather enough information to alert the authorities and let them take care of it. I didn't, for two reasons. First, it was common sense that the U.S. government would do just about anything to prevent that bomb from going off, collateral damage be damned. How would I feel if they leveled a city block and everyone in it? No, I could make as many attempts as necessary to prevent any innocent loss of life.

And second, fuck that! This was

my

day. You fuck with somebody on July 15

th

2016, you deal with me!

As for the fame and adulation? Well, it was a burden I was willing to bare.

...

I started my reconnaissance by finding out just what the hell was in that building. A quick internet search got me a directory. Most of the building was made up of small offices, lawyers, accountants, and such. There was a regional office for a car rental company. Some sort of medical consulting business. Several vague company listings that I would have to look up.

But the one that jumped off the page was the South Korean Embassy.

It was on the fourth floor, and at first glance was the only thing in the building that would have any symbolic importance to terrorists. Obviously New York itself was the target, but it couldn't be coincidence that the bomb was in the same building as an embassy.

I staked out 57

th

and Park Ave.

The terrorists arrived at 3:15am. They were in several construction trucks. The fake janitors, now wearing fake cop uniforms (or real, I didn't know), got out and redirected traffic while the rest set up the barricades. I counted eleven of them. I had to go back several nights to watch from different angles.

There were also three hostages. The terrorists brought them with them when they arrived. The hostages had bags over their heads, and were hustled into the building from the back of one of the trucks after the street was cleared.

The fake cops disappeared into the building and reappeared five minutes later as maintenance men.

Interestingly, two of the terrorists did

not

go into the building. They crossed the street and entered the high rise there. One was carrying a guitar case.

That must be the sniper that shot me.

...

Early in the time loop, I had lamented that surveillance was useless when trying to get the goods on my wife. Now the tables were turned. I needed to go high tech, and I had the money to do it.

Across the street from the embassy building was a high rise office building. I got my own fake janitor outfit from a uniform supply company. When the real maintenance crew showed up at midnight, I was waiting with a bag full of envelopes, each containing five grand.

I pulled a wheeled trash can from the back of my rented van and went in with the cleaning crew. This crew wasn't cleaning any offices on the north side of the fourth floor. The closest I could get was a real estate developer on the sixth floor. I waited until they had finished cleaning it, then I gave all of them two more envelopes each.

"Lock the door on your way out and forget you ever saw me."

Once I was alone, I found a window facing the embassy and pulled my equipment from the trash can. First out was a heavy duty glass cutter. I cut a two foot hole in the window and tossed the cutter, with glass attached, aside.

Next I pulled out a parabolic microphone. This was a commercial model, made for law enforcement and not available to the public. Luckily, the company had offices here in New York. I went over there with a quarter million in a briefcase and found an employee who was willing to let one "fall off the back of the truck." (Side note- I

massively

overpaid for everything. I knew I didn't need to pay that much, but, well, why the fuck not?)

The parabolic mic was able to pick up everything the two guys on the street said, as well as the Rambo wannabe in the lobby. The lights on the fourth floor were on, but the curtains were drawn. I aimed the mic at the windows and could hear some faint conversation. In all, the parabolic microphone let me listen in on five of the terrorists. Helpful, but not enough.

...

I was in the high rise again, dressed as a maintenance worker. I'd ditched the high-tech gear and brought the gun. I was looking for the sniper team.

I went up to the roof first. It was empty. I looked over the safety railing at the edge of the roof and could see why they weren't up here. The building was almost 50 stories. The height would make getting a clean shot difficult because of the steep angle down to the street.

I leaned out and looked down the side of the building. I caught a brief glimpse of movement, like a rifle barrel poking out the side of the building, then going back in. It appeared to be above the roofline of the Embassy building, which would be the ninth or tenth floor.

After taking the elevator to 12, I used the stairs to search from the 11

th

floor down. I was on the 9

th

, approaching the door to a marketing firm. I heard a creak behind me.

A soft whump accompanied the bullet in my back.

...

Well, the guy with the sniper was obviously there to keep people like me from sneaking up on him. I hadn't seen where he came from, but now that I knew he was there, he was easy enough to find.

The lookout was posted in an office with a clear view of the elevators and stairwell. I couldn't sneak up on him.

I figured out how to get to him on my third attempt.

I came out of the stairwell and turned immediately to my right and walked down a corridor and out of the lookout's sight. I hid in an alcove, behind a coffee machine, and waited. He came down the hallway, looking in each office. He should have checked behind the coffee machine.

When he was by me, I stepped out and shoved my gun in his back.

THUMP, THUMP

His body muffled the shots, but I had no idea if he had radioed me in when he saw me. I might not have much time.

I quickly searched him. He had no ID. His pockets were empty, except for ammo, a knife, and a backup gun. What I was really after was his radio. He had an ear bud and a small microphone clipped inside the collar of his shirt. Wires led from both to a handset clipped to his belt. I found a label-Ultralux, but no dials or digital readout to tell me what frequency they were using.

There was faint noise coming from the earbud. Someone was trying to reach the lookout. I guess he reported me.

FLASH

....

The next morning I looked up Ultralux radios. They were high end encrypted two-way radios. I found a dealer who sold them in queens and had him walk me through its operation. The back cover came off, exposing a digital frequency readout, with up and down arrows, as well as ten knobs that controlled the encryption.