Copyright 2015
Chapter 1: Threatened
With a gentle bump, the front tires of the plane hit the runway, spinning with a dizzying speed. The black rubber smoked slightly as the brakes were applied and the aircraft taxied to a crawling pace, then a halt. The pilot, Dylan Robertson smiled at his co-pilot Frank Meirs. “Another successful flight!” he announced, easing out of the seat.
Frank nodded in ready agreement. “That was nice. I didn't know how much I missed being up in the air. So...what's the plan?”
Dylan made his way down the steps, blinking in the bright afternoon sun. The fall air was crisp and cool, hinting the promise of cold weather to come. The pilot was glad he had brought his jacket. “So we're meeting our customer and we're going to fly him to Washington state. From there we'll head back to Silver Springs.”
“Sounds good!” Frank lifted his hand to his eyes. “Is that him?” he asked, gesturing to a tall man with neatly groomed black hair and brown eyes that was approaching him. His presence radiated business and from the look on his face, it was easy to tell that he was used to being obeyed.
Dylan glanced the man's spotless work suit and nodded. “That's him. I'll go greet him if you want to start doing the pre-flight check again and oversee the refueling. We'll probably be a few minutes.”
Frank nodded. “Will do. Have fun!”
“Ha! Very funny, Frank,” Dylan groaned as he rolled his eyes and walked away.
Frank stepped back over to the plane and gazed at the smooth lines with a practiced eye. He began the pre-flight check as he waited for a worker to drag the fuel hose over. Frank glanced at the man who seemed to be having trouble untangling the hose and hurried over. “Want some help with that?” he asked, gesturing to the thick black hose.
“Yeah, sure.” came the reply from the worker. His hair was shaggy brown and his black eyes were shifty. He moved awkwardly around the hose and sorted out his problem with Frank's help. “Are you Frank Meirs?”
“I am,” came the reply.
The man's eyes narrowed and Frank began to feel uneasy. Those feelings were tripled when the man grabbed him by his shirt collar and hauled him over to the plane. “Listen up pal,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “We know where Mark is. If you try to stop us from killing him we'll kill your entire family. Do you understand?”
By now, Frank was visibly trembling. “Y-you can't do this!” he grunted as the pressure around his neck increased.
“We can and we will,” the man shot back, his face inches from Frank's. Frank could feel his seething rage emanating from the man's strong hands. “If you tell ANYONE I will personally see to it that you will suffer the most painful death imaginable and you will watch your family die as well as Mark.”
“P-please!” Frank begged. “H-he's innocent!” His eyes darted to the small brick building where Dylan and the customer had recently disappeared into. There was no sign of them. Mustering his strength, Frank pried himself out of the man's grasp and tried to tackle him.
“Nice try,” the man laughed heartlessly as he wrenched Frank's arm into an uncomfortable position behind his back. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-you won't get away with this!” Frank hissed. His arm was wrenched harder and a cry of pain escaped his lips.
“We will succeed. Now, do you understand?” he tweaked Frank's arm a bit more until the co-pilot was writhing in agony. “Don't you see the helpless position you are in?” his voice whispered in Frank's ear, driving him into a rage of fury and pain. “One little jerk and your arm will be broken. Is it really worth the lives of your family?”
Frank gasped for breath. “I-I won't tell,” he promised.
“Good. If you do you won't even time to say goodbye we'll be on you so fast. We're watching. Remember that.” The man let go of Frank's arm and pushed him onto the ground before running away.
Tears of blind rage streamed down Frank's face as he picked himself up. Leaning against the plane for support, his mind raced with fearful thoughts. Voices broke into his contemplating and Frank saw Dylan returning with his customer. With shaking hands he forced himself to refuel the plane and finish the inspection before returning to the cockpit where Dylan was already seated.
“What took you so long?” he asked, slightly irritated. “We have a well-paying customer in the back and it would be wise not to keep him waiting.”
“Sorry,” Frank mumbled, trying to calm his nerves. It didn't work.
“You look really pale. Is everything ok?” Dylan asked.
“Y-yeah. Everything's fine.” Frank answered, his voice barely audible.
“Are you sure?” Dylan pressed.
“I said yes!” Frank yelled, his rage finally erupting. “Just quit it, ok?”
Dylan raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “Hey! Alright! Just take it easy and for Heaven's sake don't shout!”
Frank gave Dylan a withering glare and shut his mouth. He was beside himself with anxiety and fear, not to mention his arm was throbbing painfully. The flight to Washington was passed in silence and the mood from Washington to Montana did not improve.
It was midnight when the weary travelers arrived back at Silver Springs. Dylan hurried into the hospital followed by Frank. They hardly noticed the peaceful land surrounding them in the quiet nighttime air. Sandra had the night shift and she greeted them both with a ready smile.
“How's Mark?” Dylan asked anxiously as he tried to stifle a yawn.
Sandra drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He's no better,” she admitted.
Dylan sighed. “Mind if we see him?”
“Be my guest,” Sandra answered quickly. “You know the room.”
Dylan walked down the hall at a quick pace and opened the door to Mark's room. “Mark?” he called softly.
Mark's eyes popped open in a combination of fear and surprise. His heart rate immediately quickened.
Dylan hurried to his side. “Hey hey, take it easy. It's just us. Are you feeling any better?” he asked hopefully.”
“I-I don't know,” Mark stammered. “Frank are you ok?”
Frank shrugged. “I'm just worried about you.”
“We all are,” Dylan agreed, this time unable to hide his yawn. “Boy I'm knackered.”
“You didn't have to come here. Go on to bed.”
“I may take you up on your offer, Mark but I don't know...I'll just sleep in this chair here. Frank you go home. You look exhausted.”
“Are you sure?” Frank asked. “I can stay here if you want,” he offered.
“No no. I insist. Go home.” Dylan urged.
Frank reluctantly agreed and shuffled out of the room. Dylan made himself comfortable and settled into a deep sleep. Mark lay in sleepless torment until dawn.
The next few days passed slowly. Mark did not improve and he spent his days trying to catch a few minutes of sleep without having a nightmare or another of his frequent panic attacks that left him absolutely exhausted and irritated.
Frank seemed cold and distant and fear haunted his eyes. He could hardly tear himself away from Mark and any questions about what was wrong with him either sent the elderly character into silence or into a rage. It was beginning to wear on all of them.
One week later, morning found Mark having another panic attack. He was gasping for air and sweat rolled down his face. His heart monitor was off the charts and his eyes darted from Dylan to Sandra who were trying their best to console him.
“N-no! Stop!” Mark begged. “J-just let me go! F-Frank...” his voice trailed off as he gulped in a ragged breath.
“Mark you need to try and calm down!” Sandra nearly begged as she stepped closer.
With a rough shove, Mark pushed her against the wall and stumbled out of bed, yanking out his iv. Blood dripped onto the floor but he didn't notice. He staggered out of the room at a rapid pace with Sandra following close behind. Mark hurried along even faster until he was at a run. When he reached his destination, Kelsey's house, Mark collapsed on the front porch where Sandra and Dylan found him.
“Mark! What on earth are you doing!?” Dylan gasped, kneeling beside his friend.
“F-Frank...” Mark gasped.
Sandra looked around. “Yeah, where is Frank? I haven't seen him in a while.” She tried the door and found it unlocked. “Frank are you in here?” The sound of glass breaking grabbed her attention. Hurrying over to a closed door she knocked hesitantly. “Frank are you in there?”
“Go away!” A very upset voice yelled. A voice Sandra recognized as Frank's.
“Are you ok?” Sandra asked worriedly.
“I said GO AWAY!” Frank roared. Another sound of shattering glassware could be heard.
Now frightened over Frank's safety, Sandra tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. It opened a crack. Frank made a mad scramble for the door and tripped. His yell of pain echoed throughout the entire house.
“Dylan get in here!” Sandra hollered.
The sound of feet running on hardwood floors was quickly heard and Dylan raced in. “What's wrong?! Kelsey just got here and she's with Mark. Is Frank in there?”
“Something's wrong!” Sandra exclaimed above Frank's pitiful groans from the other side of the door.
Dylan opened it and gulped. “Frank what's the matter?” he asked, carefully brushing away the shattered glass and kneeling beside the fallen man who was gripping his knee in agony.
“H-hurt my k-knee...” Frank gasped, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Let me look,” Dylan urged, easing Frank's hands away from the injured extremity.
“Agh!” Frank yelled as his friend touched his knee.
Dylan's face was puzzled. “I'm sorry buddy. I don't see anything though...”
“N-not glass...” Frank winced, trying to take a deep breath. His hands were shaking. “S-shrapnel fr-from when the helicopter c-crashed.”
“Oh my,” Dylan mumbled as his eyes widened in surprise. Frank's grip tightened on his arm.
“P-please...g-go to Mark!” he begged, his eyes terrified.
“He'll be alright. Kelsey and Sandra are taking care of him,” Dylan assured the elderly character.
“N-no!” Frank pleaded, his face pale with pain and fright. “G-go to h-him!”
“Alright! But I'm going to take care of you first. Sandra! Help me get Frank to the hospital.”
Despite Frank's protests he was loaded into Dylan's truck. The ride was a painful one. Frank kept his eyes squeezed shut and groaned aloud with each bump they passed over. Dylan tried to console him but the pain was too intense for Frank to take much notice. Finally after what seemed like hours they arrived. Dylan helped Frank hobble into the exam room and gave him a painkiller.
“Thanks,” Frank mumbled as he looked nervously around him.
“I'm going to have to remove this shrapnel,” Dylan told Frank as he quickly did an x-ray. He paused in his work and stared at his friend a long moment. “Frank you're worrying me. What's wrong?”
“C-can't say,” Frank hesitated, looking very uncomfortable.
Dylan injected a local anesthetic into Frank's leg. “Yes you can, you can trust me Frank.”
Frank bit his lip and glanced around the room again, clearly on edge. “I-I can't! I want to! Please I can't!” he begged.
“Yes you can, Frank. It's ok.” Dylan leaned closer to Frank and began to clean his knee with iodine. Lowering his voice he continued to work. “Ok what's going on? Are we being watched?”
“I-I don't know! Someone threatened my whole family when we were at the airport and he said he knew where Mark was and he was going to kill him!” The words were out before Frank could stop them.
Dylan's jaw tightened. “He was probably bluffing,” he tried to assure Frank, but deep inside, he wasn't so sure.
Chapter 2: When Death Comes Calling
Mark stiffened as Frank and Dylan approached. They were an odd looking pair to be accompanying him on a flight, but then again, he didn't have much of a choice. They stood before him awaiting their orders. Mark glanced at them, emotionless, stony and hard. “Well, at least you two are on time. Let me give you the briefing. Our destination is Bodo. Weather looks clear until Scandinavia where there are some light snow clouds. I'm flying since Dylan is suspended and Frank is in no condition to pilot a plane. Have you got it?”
Frank heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes, Skipper,” he nodded, using the affectionate name he sometimes called the pilot.
Mark's jaw tightened. “You will address me as Sir.” It was clear he was still very upset.
Frank looked down, unable to meet the younger man's unwavering glare. Dylan helped him into the back of the plane while Mark settled in the cockpit. His tension lifted slightly as he took in the familiar surroundings. “Oh I've missed you terribly,” he whispered to the aircraft. Turning on the engines, Mark guided the plane down the runway and took off smoothly into the air. His troubles were forgotten.
Frank sat sullenly in the back. Dylan glanced at him. “Boy I really messed things up didn't I?” he sighed.
“Yeah. Mark is...or was...my best friend.” Frank snapped. The cargo section went uncomfortably silent.
“Tower this is Gulf Tango Foxtrot India requesting weather report,” Mark spoke into the headset half an hour later. For a moment there was no reply.
Then with a sickening voice, someone spoke back. “Hello Captain, did you miss me?”
Mark's face went as white as a sheet. “J-Jaques! W-what are you doing?! What do you want?!” he gasped as his grip on the plane's joystick tightened as his fear increased.
Mark could hear the sneer in his archenemy’s voice. “Oh, just tying up some loose ends. I told you I'd make you pay.”
“Well too bad you aren't here!” Mark retorted. A glance at his radar though, and his heart nearly stopped beating.
“I wouldn't count on that, Captain,” Jaques laughed. Mark only had an instant to register the black plane out his left window before a bullet struck his aircraft and hit him in the stomach. Mark didn't the breath to cry out as he crumpled over in agony. Warning dings from the plane penetrated the silence and the pilot realized the plane was losing pressure. With shaking hands, he decreased the altitude to keep from being suffocated.
Frank felt the pressure in his ears and the shakiness of the plane. “Mark?!” he bellowed. “What's going on in there?” his eyes registered alarm.
Mark summoned all of his strength. “Mayday! Mayday!” he called into the microphone. “We have hostiles! Anyone come in! Mayday!” his voice was thin with pain and he was begging.
Dylan glanced out of the window behind him. His eyes took in the black plane. “Oh no...” he whispered.
“Mark!” Frank yelled, trying to undo his seat-belt.
Jaques was back. “Oh Mark, this is so dull. How 'bout I heat things up a bit?” The evil man maneuvered his plane so that he was directly behind Mark's. “How about a missile?”
“N-No!” Mark yelled. His radar picked up the deadly projectile speeding towards him. “Taking evasive action!” He thrust the joystick hard to the right in an attempt to move clear of the impending hunk of metal heading his way. His response wasn't quick enough.
“Checkmate, Captain,” Jaques laughed heartlessly as his missile struck the plane's left engine. The whole aircraft shuddered violently as it's nose pointed earthward.
“Mayday! Mayday!” Mark's voice was filled with the utmost of terror. “We're going down!” he briefly had the presence of mind to think of Dylan and Frank. “Get to the back! NOW!” Adrenaline was masking all his pain.
The passengers' faces were now as white as Mark's. “Frank! Here!” Dylan helped his friend to the back and helped him buckle his seat-belt and did the same for himself. “Frank put your head between your legs! Hurry!”
Frank was shaking but he obeyed. “D-Dylan I'm s-sorry about...about w-what I said!”
“D-don't worry about it, Frank. It's ok. I'm sorry about everything too.”
“Brace for impact!” Mark yelled.
The wild land below sped to greet them. It was a savagely beautiful sight. Dark green pine trees carpeted the lower elevations on the hills before thinning out higher up. Snowcaps on the mountaintops were beautiful in contrast with the sky. Beneath them a crystal clear river flowed, the water fast moving and deep. The shore was covered with small rocks. Mark did his best to aim the nose of his nearly unresponsive plane towards the middle of the lake.
“Oh God please spare us!” Frank begged, tensing. The whole plane was shaking, groaning in a last dying breath.
The force of impact was harder than either of them were expecting. The noise was deafening. Frank's head slammed against the seat knocking him out. Water shattered the cockpit's windows rushing in in a torrent and filling it almost before Mark realized they had made impact. He too passed out. A yell was torn out of Dylan's mouth as his ears rung with the loudness that left him dazed. Pieces of the wreckage floated towards his seat as the water level increased.
Dylan numbly unbuckled his seat-belt. His arm hung lifelessly by his side. He was too shocked to feel any pain. “Frank! Frank!” he yelled, shaking his companion roughly.
Frank moaned as freezing cold ice water lapped at his knees. “W-what...” he mumbled, forcing his eyes open.
Dylan shook him again. “Frank! Grab a seat cushion and get out of here!” he forced the hatch open in the back of the plane and shoved part of a seat into Frank's arms. “I'm going back for Mark!”
The words barely registered in Frank's dazed mind. He grabbed the spongy item and shuffled to the exit, not taking note that the waters around him had turned a deep shade of red.
“Go!” Dylan yelled above the noise of the water and the loud creaking of straining metal. He sloshed his way to the cockpit that was now underwater. “Mark!” taking a deep breath he plunged below the surface and groped blindly around, nearly gasping from the cold. His probing fingers found what he was looking for. The softness of Mark's shirt.
Feeling around, Dylan found Mark's seat-belt. He was suddenly aware of the fact that he couldn't see. The water had turned red. Blood red. Yanking the harness off he grabbed Mark's shirt and dragged him out of his seat. By this time his lungs were about to burst from lack of air. He frantically swam out of the plane with Mark's limp body and gulped in a huge breath of the crisp mountain air.
Dylan could see Frank struggling against the current but his first priority was Mark. Hauling him onto shore he felt for a pulse. There was none. Scrambling back into the water he dragged Frank onto the rocky shoreline. “Frank you've gotta do CPR! My arm's broken. I can't. Hurry!” he begged.
Frank drug himself over to Mark and tried to pump life back into his friend. “Mark please!” he begged between repetitions.
Mark suddenly came to life and his eyes opened. He coughed and sputtered. Dylan propped him into a sitting position with his good arm as the pilot began to expel all the lake water in his lungs. He was shivering from head to toe.
Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. “I've gotta go back and get our stuff. If I don't get a fire going we'll all freeze to death. Frank, watch him please.” Without another word, Dylan plunged back into the frigid waters to complete his quest.
Frank rubbed Mark's back. “Are you cold?” he asked, trying to mask his own discomfort.
“Y-yeah,” Mark shivered.
“G-good. It means you don't have hypothermia.” Frank inched closer to his friend so they could share what little body heat they had left. It was then that the both of them noticed all the blood.
“F-Frank?!” The pilot's voice rose higher in panic. His fingers went to his abdomen where the blood had stained his shirt red. Now that the initial rush was over and the adrenaline gone, the pain was making an appearance in full force.
Frank's already pale face went a shade whiter. “M-Mark just stay calm a-alright?”
Mark shook his head and groaned. “I-I'm sorry t-this is all my fault!”
“Mark stop blaming yourself! What's done is done. Just...can we be friends again?”
“N-No! It is my fault!” Mark gasped, choking on his own frantic gulps for air.
“We're all to blame. Let's just forget about it ok?” Frank's only response were more agonized groans.
“C-can't feel my hands...” Mark murmured.
“You're freezing. Come on, I want you to rub your legs and arms. We need to get the blood moving. It'll help warm you up,” Frank assured him as he began to do the same.
“I-I can't!” Mark moaned. “G-gonna fall asleep...” his eyes began to close.
“Mark no!” Frank nearly yelled. “If you have a concussion that could be fatal.” he shook the pilot.
“C-can't...” Mark voice was barely audible.
“Dylan!” Frank hollered, beginning to become panicked.
A head popped above the surface of the water. Dylan swam his way back two his companions, lugging a limp brown bag. “It's all I could find. What's wrong?”
“M-Mark's falling asleep,” Frank told him, his teeth chattering with cold. “M-Might have a concussion.”
Dylan rummaged around for a flashlight. When it didn't turn on immediately he slapped it against his palm. A cheery yellow glow turned on, slightly brightening the darkening land. “Alright buddy open you eyes,” Dylan urged.
Mark blinked as Dylan examined his pupils. “We're good. Oh my...” his gaze snapped to all the blood. “Frank! Lay him down.”
Frank eased the pilot's head onto his lap. Dylan peeled Mark's shirt off and gulped. The bullet wound was oozing blood at an alarming rate. All Dylan could think about was the pain in the eyes of his friend. “F-Frank we've gotta get the bullet out.”
“N-no...oh p-please no...” Mark begged weakly. Frank squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him.
Dylan rummaged around his flight bag and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey and his knife. “I-I can't hold him down with my arm. We'll have to tie him up.” he tossed Frank a green blanket.
Frank tore it into strips and tied it around Mark's wrists. The pilot was shaking in the utmost of fear. “P-please Frank!”
Tears trickled down the elderly man's pale cheeks. “Mark we've gotta. I am so so sorry.”
With some difficulty Dylan managed to pry the lid off the whiskey bottle and pour it onto the knife and a pair of tweezers. “Alright Frank. I think we're ready.”
Frank took a shaky breath and picked up the knife as Dylan sat on Mark's legs. “Listen buddy,” Frank told him. “You can't be moving around. Do you understand?” he tried to keep his voice steady but it was hardly working.
Mark pulled on the cloth trying his wrists to a tree. “N-no! Please please stop!” his voice was desperate.
“Mark! You will die if we don't! Now please!” Frank begged. “Dylan hold the flashlight here and hand me that whiskey. He needs to drink some.”
Dylan did as was asked of him. Frank held the glass to Mark's blue lips. “Drink a bit,” he urged. The pilot took a sip and Frank pulled the bottle away.
“Frank we need to hurry. It's getting dark.”
“I-I...” Frank hesitated for a very long moment. “I c-can't.”
“Frank don't start this! Come on! Mark needs you!” Dylan nearly yelled, his only means to fight back the tears that threatened like storm clouds.
Reluctantly, Frank turned back to Mark. “Oh buddy I'm so so s-sorry,” he gulped as he splashed a generous amount of the whiskey onto Mark's wound.
Mark's whole body went rigid with pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately not to cry out. A muffled moan escaped his lips. It was almost too much for Frank to bear. Before he lost the remaining portion of his courage, he switched his mind to autopilot and went in with the knife.
“Agh!” Mark's yell shattered the nighttime stillness. He writhed and desperately tried to get away from the source of the pain.
“Mark please! Please hold still!” Dylan begged, trying to counter Mark's thrashing.
Frank bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed but he payed no attention. His eyes squinted as he worked, probing in the bullet wound trying to find the small metal bit that was going to kill Mark. The pilot's cries of pain continued to echo around the forest.
“I can't find it!” Frank muttered in frustration. Sweat was pouring down his face.
“Maybe it went in at an angle,” Dylan called loudly above Mark's agonized groans.
“I-I don't know...” Frank mumbled as he resumed his efforts. The next minute ticked by like hours. “Nothing!”
“Widen the hole,” Dylan suggested.
“O-oh...no p-please!” Mark blubbered as tears rolled down his ghostly white cheeks.
“Mark I've got to!” Frank was in tears himself. He wiped them away as they were blurring his vision. He continued to work as Mark shifted beneath him.
“Agh! Stop! O-oh please stop!” Mark yelled.
“Found it!” Frank hollered. “Dylan tweezers!” he held out his blood covered hand and took them from his companion. His numb fingers couldn't use the small tool and Frank sighed in frustration. “Gotta use my fingers. Dylan pour some of that alcohol onto my hand.
Dylan did as asked and Frank groped around the wound trying to get the bullet out. Mark nearly passed out. Finally Frank held up the blood-covered metal chunk. “It's out. We have got to get this bleeding under control.” He quickly untied Mark who was gasping for each shallow breath. His eyes were closed.
Frank lifted Mark's head onto his lap. The pilot uttered not a word. “O-oh Mark!” Frank sobbed. “P-please forgive me buddy. I-I am so sorry!” he tried his best to comfort Mark.
Dylan knelt beside the pitiful two and handed Frank some duck-tape and a roll of gauze. “Use this to close up the wound. I'm going to get some firewood.” he patted Frank on the shoulder. “You did good, buddy.” With that, Dylan disappeared into the darkening forest.
Frank bit off a section of tape with his teeth and placed it firmly against Mark's stomach. The half-conscious pilot shuddered but refrained from crying out. Frank shifted Mark into a better position and began to tightly wrap the gauze around Mark. When he was done he cradled Mark as best he could. The paleness of his body alarmed Frank.
Mark's fingers moved to Frank's hand and he weakly grasped at it, trying to use it for an anchor. His breath came in short choppy gasps and each was nearly a sobbing moan. Frank could tell he was in a severe amount of pain. He rocked the pilot back and forth slowly. “Come on, Mark, stay with me buddy,” he begged softly. Mark didn't respond.
After what seemed like hours, Dylan returned. He stumbled over to Frank and Mark, numb with exhaustion. “I found a cave!” he exclaimed, kneeling beside the two. “He's lost a lot of blood,” he noticed as he gently took Mark's pulse. “We need to get him warm. I'll get Mark to the cave. Here, I got this for you.” he handed Frank a stout looking stick shaped into the crude shape of a cane.
Frank gently laid Mark's head onto the blanket and took hold of it. He managed to maneuver himself onto a standing position but tripped on his numb feet and landed on his bad knee on the rocks. “Agh! Oh Dylan...” Frank moaned, gripping his knee.
Dylan winced. “Here Frank. Let me help you up. New plan. I'll get you to the cave and you can start a fire while I get Mark.”
Frank groaned. “G-give me a minute.” he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the pain to abate slightly before handing Dylan his hand. The younger man hauled Frank to his feet and supported most of his weight as the two staggered towards Dylan's find. Each jolt sent shockwaves of intense pain up Frank's leg but he refused to cry out. Finally they reached the cave.
“C-change into t-these dry clothes and make a fire,” Dylan urged as he tossed Frank a bundle. “I'll be back soon.”
Frank struggled into the clothes and scooted closer to a pile of sticks that Dylan had gathered. He rummaged around in the flight bag and found some flint and steel which he proceeded to strike. A cheery flash slightly penetrated the darkness before dissipating. Frank sighed his frustration and tried again. He kicked out angrily with his good leg.
A few minutes later, Dylan was back. Laying Mark's limp body near the firewood he inspected Frank's work or lack there of. “Didn't see the matches? I know there's some in the bag,” Dylan announced.
Frank opened it and found the needed item a few minutes later. His fingers clumsily opened it spilling out a few of the small red-tipped sticks. Finally he managed to grasp one and strike it against the box. A small flame rose up and Frank dropped it. Luckily it landed in the stick pile. The flame licked at the fuel and grew larger. Blowing on it gently, the fire increased in volume.
Dylan held out his hands to capture the warmth, the flames nearly touching his fingertips. “Ah, much better,” he mumbled. Frank simply nodded. “Hey your knee probably needs to be tended to. I'll splint up my arm after I get Mark into these dry clothes.”
Frank sighed and gingerly rolled up the leg of his pants. His stitches had busted and his leg below the knee was stained with both dried and fresh blood. Frank winced. “Hand me that alcohol would you?”
Dylan paused in his work and tossed Frank the bottle. “Here. Use it sparingly. We might need it later,” he advised, glancing at Mark.
Frank took a deep breath and tensed up before splashing a little of the amber liquid onto his knee. He wasn't prepared for the pain that resulted. “Agh!” he grunted. “Oh my word that hurt!”
Dylan handed him a strip of tape. “Use this.”
Taking the sticky object, Frank plastered it against the wound. “Alright. Need some help?”
“Y-yeah. Trying to splint up one's own arm is quite the challenge.” Dylan scooted closer to the fire as Frank assisted him in securing the broken limb. “Thanks.” he stood up and walked over to Mark. “I'm going to make sure the bandages are holding.”
Lifting the front of Mark's blue shirt, Dylan sucked in his breath. “Oh boy...”
Frank glanced over. “What...oh my word!”
Mark's bandages were no longer doing their job. The movement had caused his wound to bleed again as heavy as ever. “F-Frank he's gonna die if we don't do something!” Dylan's face was a mask of terror.
Frank glanced around. His gaze rested on the fire and he began to tremble. Dylan noticed. “What's wrong?” he asked.
“D-Dylan I-I can't.” Frank buried his head in his hands sobbing bitterly. “I-I can't d-do this!”
The dawn of realization began to form in Dylan's tired mind. “You think we should cauterize the wound don't you?” he guessed. Frank only cried harder. Dylan stood up and put his arm around his friend. “Hey, I know this is hard but we've got to do it. We can't have Mark die. I-I'll do it but y-you've gotta hold him down. Can you do that?” he asked Frank, more like a father to a son.
Mustering up his last ounce of courage, Frank nodded.
Chapter 3: The Threshold of Heaven
“I-I'll get the knife ready.” Dylan quickly turned away so that Frank couldn't see his shaking hands.
Frank inched closer to Mark. The pilot's breathing was ragged and his pulse was sluggish. “Mark,” he called softly.
Mark's eyes fluttered open. “F-Frank please,” he begged. “I-I can't take this...”
“O-oh Mark please. I need you to listen to me. I know you've been through a lot...we all have. I know you're strong. You've got that British spunk and you are a soldier. We are trained to be tough. I've gotta admit, you are much braver and stronger than I could ever be. You've got to fight now. I know it's hard...I would trade places with you in an instant. But I can't. We're all in this together.” Frank took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as well as Mark's. “I know you don't like to think about it but when we were captured we had to do some unthinkable things. We survived because of that and we are here today. You've got to fight like that now. Don't give in. You're a soldier. You have a battle to win.”
Mark stared at Frank unblinking a long moment. Finally he let out his breath slowly. “I-I don't know how much fight I have left but I'll give it all I've got.” Frank squeezed his hand.
Dylan walked over and unbuckled his belt. His hands were shaking. “M-Mark, I'm going to go as fast as possible. Bite down on this,” he urged, his voice trembling slightly as he placed the strip of leather between Mark's teeth. The pilot's eyes closed as he tried to mentally prepare himself for what was coming. Dylan picked up the knife as Frank used his weight to hold Mark down. He couldn't look his friend in the eyes.
Dylan took a shaky breath. He tried to think of something, anything other than what he was about to do. Gritting his teeth, he lowered the hot metal blade of the knife to Mark's stomach. Mark's reaction was like a whiplash. He jerked, his whole body shuddering. Frank nearly lost his grip.
“Agh! O-oh s-stop!” Mark yelled, trying to deal with the scalding pain he was experiencing. His fingers gripped at the dirt beneath him as his screams penetrated the night air.
“M-Mark p-please!” Frank sobbed. “B-be still buddy!”
“C-can't!” Mark gasped. “Agh! P-please!” His back arched off the ground in a feeble attempt to escape the excruciating pain. His groans of agony branded themselves into Frank's mind and would forever haunt him.
"M-Mark!" Frank called, trying to break through Mark's wall of pain.
Briefly, Mark's eyes rested on his friend. Their eyes met. In that instant, Frank relayed a message Mark needed so desperately at that moment. He didn't intend to, but the turmoil in Frank's blue eyes somehow got through to Mark and changed him from absolute blinding panic to grim determination.
Dylan tried in vain to distance his mind from the writhing body under his hands. “A-almost done M-Mark,” he assured, his voice shaking with emotion.
Mark's body suddenly went limp as he mercifully lost consciousness. Frank loosened his grasp on Mark's arms and broke down completely. Only a minute later, Dylan removed the knife. His face was deathly pale. “I'm g-gonna...” he dashed for the nearest tree and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground. Frank continued sobbing helplessly, his arms around his friend.
Dylan returned a minute later, breathing heavily. “O-oh Frank I'm s-so sorry about a-all this.” he lay a hand on Frank's shaking shoulder.
“G-get away!” Frank lashed out, trying to deal with his emotions.
“F-Frank please!” Dylan begged.
“H-help me up!” Frank snapped.
“What about your knee?”
“Forget the knee and help me up!” Frank's yell echoed through the trees.
Dylan reached down and pulled his friend to his feet. “Where you going?” he asked in alarm as his friend limped towards the forest.
“I-I need some time.” Frank answered flatly.
“Be careful,” Dylan called after him, shaking his head. He knew Frank needed some space but he was concerned about his friend's safety.
Frank didn't answer as he continued his painful trek through the woods. His anger spilled over as he reached the shore they had been at earlier. Grabbing a handful of pebbles he them them into the fast-moving waters of the river. “Why?! Oh God why have you done this?!” he shouted, a second handful of rocks splashing into the waters.
The longer Frank sat by the river the calmer he became. His anger subsided, soothed by the rippling liquid at his feet. His rage had turned into sobs that racked his body for many minutes. Finally he wiped his eyes and glanced at the quiet beauty around him. There was a full moon that night, it's white light reflecting on the water like silver diamonds. The faint sound of crickets could be heard above the gurgling river and the small rocks felt cool beneath Frank's hands. He sifted his fingers idly through them. His hand brushed against something odd. “What...” Frank picked up the object and his heart nearly stopped beating. His cellphone!
Frank nearly pushed the button to turn it on before he remembered this battery had been nearly out before the flight and the water would have probably destroyed it. Better let it dry out and have slightly better odds in case he only had one chance. Pocketing it, Frank stumbled clumsily to his feet and began his trek back to the campsite.
Dylan sat by Mark, his eyes resting worriedly on his unconscious friend. Mark's sweat-soaked head lay on his lap and Dylan brushed the locks of brown hair of his face. Even in the yellow flickering of the firelight it was easy to tell that the pilot's complexion was very very sickly. Dylan lay a hand on Mark's shoulder. “Oh buddy please keep fighting,” he begged, taking his friend's pulse for the fifth time that minute. It was so feeble and faint he could hardly detect it.
Dylan sighed and sent up another silent prayer in his friend's behalf. Mark's condition was so fragile. His life was hanging by a thread. Dylan hardly dared to move though his foot had long since fallen asleep. A rustling in the bushes to his right and Dylan's gaze snapped to the dark woods. “Who's there?” he called, low and calm though it was just the opposite of what he felt.
“It's me,” Frank answered as he stepped into the circle of firelight.
“Oh thank God. I was getting worried,” Dylan admitted.
“How is he?”
“No better, no worse. Still unconscious.”
Frank sighed and awkwardly nestled into a sitting position. “I'm sorry.”
“Hey we all have our moments. I'm just glad you're back. No need to apologize.” Dylan flashed a shaky smile and turned his attention back to Mark.
“Guess what I found by the lake...” Frank held up the battered phone.
Dylan's eyes locked onto the beacon of hope offered to him. “Frank! What...how?! Did you get a hold of anyone?!”
“There's hardly any battery. I'm going to let it dry by the fire and you can head up that ridge we saw earlier and hopefully you'll get a signal,” Frank explained as he gently lay the phone down on a rock close to the heat.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Mark's body convulsed suddenly as he gasped for a breath. He could barely muster the strength to draw it in.
“Dylan!” Frank nearly yelled as he pointed at Mark.
“What do I do?! Dylan gulped, panicking. “Frank what do I do?! Mark wake up! Please buddy!”
“Hey, hey! Calm down. I-Is he still breathing?”
Dylan bent his head over Mark's face and felt a faint exhalation upon his cheek as it left Mark's body. “Y-yes,” Dylan replied, “but barely.”
Frank's eyes closed as he tried to remain calm. “There's not much we can do for him. This is his fight. All we can do is be there for him no matter what happens.”
There were tears in Dylan's eyes. “B-but what if he dies!? I-I already lied to him. What if I never get to apologize? Frank! If-if he dies the last thing I will have done to him is hurt him!”
“I know, I know,” Frank murmured. “You're just echoing my thoughts.” He rested his head on his arms in defeat.
“He's lost so much blood,” Dylan mumbled. A soft groan escaped from Mark's lips. He shifted slightly, much to his friend's amazement. “Frank look!”
Frank scooted close to the pilot. “Mark! Buddy can you hear me?” he took the pilot's hand and rubbed the back of it trying to rouse the half-conscious man.
“We should see if he can eat some soup,” Dylan suggested.
Mark's eyes fluttered halfway open. He gazed into the worried eyes of Frank above his head.
“Think you can eat a bit of food?” Frank asked anxiously, noting the shallow gasping breaths his friend was taking.
Mark blinked but didn't answer. Dylan sighed. “We should try. There's a can of soup in the flight bag. Ration it well. We don't know how long we'll be out here.”
Frank unzipped the brown bag and rummaged around the contents before pulling out a tin can. He opened it with some difficulty and set it on a rock close to the fire to warm up.
Back at the Silver Springs Hospital, Barbara hurried down the hall to where the girls were chatting merrily at the front desk. Barbara's appearance paused their happy conversation.
“Everything ok, Barbara?” Sandra asked, the smile fading from her face.
“Have any of you heard from the guys?” Barbara asked, phone in hand.
Kelsey thought a moment. “No, I don't think so. I'm sure they're fine though. I do know that Dad's battery on his phone was almost out just before the flight.”
“Yeah. Frank never remembers to charge his phone!” Sandra stifled a giggle.
Barbara's worried expression deepened. “You don't understand! The airport they were supposed to be landing at was attacked!”
Kelsey nearly fell out of her chair. “What?! Please tell me you're joking!”
“No. I would never joke about something like that,” Barbara assured the two.
“No! Oh no! Dad!” Kelsey sobbed.
Sandra put her arm around her friend's shaking shoulders. “We don't know that, Kelsey. We need to pray for them.” Kelsey continued to cry as Barbara slipped out of the room.
“Soup's ready,” Frank announced ten minutes later. Using two sticks he carefully moved the metal can from the heat of the fire. It didn't take long to cool enough for consumption in the frosty air and Frank dipped the metal spoon into the steaming soup. Lifting Mark's head slightly he put the spoon to his lips.
Mark turned his head away slightly in protest. “Come on buddy!” Frank urged. “It'll help you. Please!” Mark opened his mouth and let Frank dribble the warm soup into it. Frank was able to get several more spoonfuls into him before Mark was done.
Slowly, Mark's eyes closed once more and his head lolled to the side. “Hang on Mark, one more thing.” Frank took a water bottle Dylan handed him with his good arm and opened the lid. He pressed the plastic rim to Mark's mouth and the pilot drank greedily. Frank let him have all he wanted and one fourth of the water in the container disappeared by the time Mark was through.
Frank grinned a bit. “Now that's the spirit Mark. Get some rest ok buddy?” he pat the pilot's limp hand fondly.
Dylan yawned. “I'm so tired. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. We'd better get some sleep.”
“I'll stay up and keep watch,” Frank offered. “I'll wake you up later so I can get some rest myself.”
“Good idea,” Dylan agreed as he pulled the thin blanket over himself and rested his head on his uninjured arm. His eyes closed and he was asleep almost immediately.
Frank leaned back against the cold, hard rock and watched the bright orange flames idly, Mark's head still resting on his lap. The minutes ticked by slowly. The constant dance of the fire slowly lulled Frank into a doze and his head slumped forward as his tiredness increased.
He was awoken some hours later by Mark's gasp for air. Immediately Frank was on alert. “Mark? You ok?” he rasped, his voice husky with sleep.
The pilot pulled in another hard-earned breath of air and stared up at Frank. In the flickering of the dying fire Frank could see the fear and pain in his eyes. “S-scared F-Frank,” Mark forced the words between breaths.
Frank tousled the pilot's hair and for once, Mark did not resist the normally irritating gesture. “I know, buddy, I know. We're all worried about you.”
“D-don't worry F-Frank. P-promise...” he gulped in another breath and tried to gather the strength to talk. “P-promise me...get y-yourself and Dylan o-out of h-here.”
“Of course! We'll all get out of here. You'll see.”
Mark shook his head weakly. “I-I'll slow y-you down. T-take Dylan and l-leave me. I-I'll be alright. W-won't make it anyway.” His voice suddenly grew stronger. “F-Frank. You know as well as I do. Only two of us will ever be leaving this place. Don't worry about me. I can see the stars...pretend I'm up in the sky. It's the only place I belong anyway. I'll fall asleep and e-everything will be ok. No more pain, no more worry. I'll see you again one day and we'll both be together again in a much better place.” Mark was nearly whispering now.
Frank was sobbing by now. “Mark you won't die! Please! Stop talking like that!”
Mark's head was shiny with perspiration. Unbeknownst to Frank, his body was already begging to show signs of infection that, if untreated, would certainly be fatal. “N-no Frank. It's better this way. P-please. G-gotta promise...” his eyes closed in exhaustion.
“No!” Frank exclaimed determinedly. “All three of us are going to walk out of here one way or another. I've never left a man behind and I will not start now.”
Mark didn't answer as he slipped over the border into unconsciousness one more.
Chapter 4: Fading Hope
The bright yellow sun peeped slowly over the trees, no longer hiding it's brightness from the exhausted three that had been sleeping in the early morning light. Frank awoke slowly, still half dreaming. For one glorious instant he could see his lovely wife Hilde running along the beach chasing after a giggling three-year-old Kelsey who was tightly clutching a stone in her fist. The image faded as Mark stirred.
“Sun's up Dylan!” Frank called, rubbing his eyes and taking in the scene around him. Dewdrops sparkled on the green blades of grass around the remains of the campfire. The yellow flames had long since passed away, leaving only gray and black ashes in it's wake. Small trails of smoke still lazily drifted on the faint wind.
Dylan's body moved from under the dark green blanket. It fell off of him as he sat up and yawned. “Mornin',” he mumbled. “How's Mark?”
Frank's attention returned to his friend who hadn't moved since the previous night. His face was still deathly pale and covered in sweat. Frank lay a hand on his head and gulped. “He's got a fever.”
Scrambling over, Dylan too tried to estimate how bad off Mark was. “No no no! He's got an infection.” His hands went to Mark's blood-covered bandages.
“Dylan wait! Don't take them off. We can't risk it. If he starts bleeding again...” his voice trailed off.
“You're right.” Dylan looked around the trees. “We need to get help.”
“The cellphone should be dry,” Frank announced.
“We don't have time. We need to get out of here now. Come on, I'll help you up.”
Mark's eyes lazily drifted open. Dylan managed to get the feverish pilot to drink a few sips of water. He seemed a bit stronger despite the infection raging within him.
“I'll help Mark if you can walk. We need to get a move on,” Dylan urged.
With an unbelievable surge of effort, Mark was lifted onto his feet and leaning against Dylan heavily for support. His face was pinched with pain but he said nothing, his shaking limbs giving evidence to how bad he was really feeling was the only other clue.
Frank shook his head in amazement at the pilot's grit as he struggled to his feet, using the numerous trees to help steady himself as he began to follow Mark and Dylan towards an unknown destination. The trio pressed onward for nearly half an hour before Mark finally collapsed in a heap with exhaustion, gripping his stomach and groaning in agony.
Frank nearly fell himself as he sat down on a fallen log. He was in a lot of pain himself as his knee had been protesting at the movement since they had started. Dylan wiped the sweat from Mark's head and tried to comfort the pilot. “Come on Mark. Deep breaths buddy,” he encouraged softly.
“J-just leave m-me!” Mark moaned between ragged gasps for air.
“No!” Both Dylan and Frank exclaimed together. Frank glanced at his throbbing knee as Dylan tried to get Mark to drink some more water. His makeshift bandage had long since ceased it's grip and blood was once again soaking his pants. Frank grit his teeth and tried to turn so that Dylan and Mark couldn't see it.
A sharp crack of a breaking branch jolted Dylan's attention to the forest. “What was that?” he whispered.
Barbara paced the floor of the hospital for what had to have been the thousandth time that morning. All night she had lain in sleepless torment, checking her phone several times a minute for any sign of the missing pilots. Morning leant her no relief to her rising anxiety.
Kelsey too had been nearly beside herself with worry. Sandra's efforts to comfort her had little effect. “Can't we go out and look for them?” she asked.
“I'm not a pilot, remember?” Barbara nearly snapped. “Look. I'm sorry. I-I just...” her voice trailed off as she glanced at her phone again.
“What if we rented a helicopter? I'm sure someone would fly us for the right price,” Sandra suggested.
Kelsey's eyes brightened. “Why didn't we think of that earlier?! I'll get the phone book.” She hastened out of the room and came back with the needed item a minute later. Hastily scrolling through the list she finally found what she was looking for. Dialing the number she waited impatiently for someone to pick up. Finally someone's voice answered.
“Hello?” Kelsey asked.
“Did you get someone?” Barbara asked anxiously.
Kelsey put a finger to her lips as she tried to concentrate on what the voice on the other end of the phone was saying. After a few minutes she hang up. “I got someone who will be willing to fly us for twenty thousand dollars.”
Sandra gasped. “That's outrageous!”
“I know but he's the only one that will go out in the middle of nowhere like that. The only thing is...I don't have that kind of money. I mean I have it but not in cash. He'll only take cash.” Kelsey bowed her head in defeat.
“What if we split the cost? Maybe we could scrounge enough together!” Sandra suggested.
“That's brilliant!” Barbara exclaimed. “I'll see what I can do.”
Jaques leaned back in his chair. “Ah the sweet taste of victory!” he chuckled with a sly smile. “All of them together. How lucky that she happened to call me!”
Juhotta smiled back an equally evil grin. “Of course! We'll just forget that plan A failed.”
“Oh hush! Now...I want you with the second helicopter. Follow my lead.”
“No problem. You know I want Mark nearly as much as you do. We'd better hurry. Our three unsuspecting maidens will be arriving shortly.”
Frank froze as someone or something began moving through the forest again. His eyes scanned the terrain but he could see nothing. He could hear Mark's slightly labored breathing beside him as the woods became silent one more.
Dylan jumped as a head and then a body emerged through a bush. It was a woman's features, Long black hair cascaded past slim shoulders. She was thin and a faded dress covered her body. Her feet were bare of shoes and socks and her dark brown eyes darted curiously between the three helpless men.
“Stay back!” Frank yelled.
The woman's eyes locked onto his. They sparkled with curiosity yet they held a hint of caution as well. Her hands were outstretched in a non threatening gesture as she slowly made her way towards Frank.
“No! Back up!” Frank repeated though his voice carried a strand of rising hope.
The woman paused. “Are you lost?” she asked slowly as if each word were strange on her tongue. Her voice carried an accent that was native to the trio but not harsh.
“Y-yes we are,” Dylan replied before Frank had the chance to answer.
The woman looked over their injuries and her gaze rested the longest on Mark. “This one needs help, no?”
“Yeah we all do but Mark's the worst,” Frank agreed.
“I can help,” the native offered. “My village, not far. Come!”
Dylan's eyes met Frank's. They both held an unspoken question. Finally Frank sighed. “I guess we don't have much of a choice. Maybe they'll have a phone. Help me up please.”
Carefully, Dylan eased Frank to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily but remained upright. The woman assisted in helping Mark rise. His head slumped forwards and he staggered after the lady leaning on Dylan.
“My name is Shafi,” the lady introduced herself as she held back a leafy branch for the struggling trio.
“I'm Frank, that's Mark and this is Dylan,” Frank told her. Together they trekked further into the never-ending forest.
“...Fourteen thousand five hundred...fifteen thousand.” Kelsey lay down the large stack of bills and sighed. “We're five thousand short.”
“It's a huge sum of money already. I don't have any more I can give,” Sandra admitted sadly as Barbara agreed with her.
“Me either. We're just going to have to hope he'll have mercy on us. Let's head to the airfield.” Kelsey slipped the money into an envelope and into her purse. “Pray we don't get robbed on the way there! I'll drive.”
Barbara patted Kelsey's shoulder. “I'm the queen of bartering. We'll get that helicopter. You'll see.”
After what seemed like an eternity to the weary travelers, Shafi pushed back a bush which revealed a clearing in the middle of the woods. Beyond were small huts. Gray smoke drifted lazily out of the roofs of each and a few citizens dressed in ragged garb were milling around and occupied with various tasks. It was almost like stepping back in time. A small corral enclosed several fine looking horses and a couple of mangy dogs stared at the newcomers in slight distrust.
Shafi led them into one of the medium sized huts. The interior was dim and several beds were strewn throughout. Onto these Frank and Mark were gestured to. Several more women stepped into the deerskin covered opening and stared at the trio in surprise. Shafi calmed them down, speaking quickly in their native language and they were soon smiling at the lost travelers.
Mark received the most attention. Shafi pointed to the bandages and talked rapidly. Mark was too sick to pay much attention to the foreign words flying back and forth over his head. Someone lay a cool cloth on his forehead and a set of firm hands pressed his shoulders to the bed.
Frank relished in the comfort of the soft mattress he was laying on after his hard night on the ground. He felt the warmth of someone's body above him and opened his eyes. “I can look at your knee?” A young girl asked. Her dark brown hair was waist length and neatly combed. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. Frank nodded and the girl set to work trying to remove the tape. Frank cringed but refrained from crying out.
Mark's screams of anguish echoed around the building and Frank jolted upright. “What are you doing to him?!” he yelled, trying frantically to get out of bed. The girl attending him pushed him back down. “They help him!” she called, slightly frustrated by the lack of her knowledge of the English language.
Frank shook his head. “No! You're hurting him!” he could barely see Mark from the crowd of women pressed around the pilot but he could just make out that they were removing the bandages from him as well. Another groan filled Frank's ears and the chatter increased in pitch as well as speed.
Shafi approached Frank, smiling but her eyes were worried. “My daughter Nyra will fix your leg,” she told him gently.
“What about Mark? Is he ok?” Frank asked anxiously.
“He is very sick. We have seen this before. He is hot and has no breath. Stomach is swollen.”
“Yeah yeah it's called an infection and it's going to kill him if we don't get him so help!” Frank replied irritably. “Do you have a phone?” he asked.
Shafi looked at him blankly. “A what? We not speak very good English.”
Frank held up the phone. “One of these.”
“Oh!” Shafi took the device and inspected it curiously. “Have seen this before. Some lost travelers had it. Doesn't work here.” She handed it back.
Frank sighed. “My knee is killing me.”
“You are hurt,” Nyra explained as if he didn't know. “I will fix. Drink this.” She pushed a smooth wooden bowl into his hands.
Frank stared at the cloudy liquid in slight disgust before gulping it down. To his surprise it tasted fairly good. Nyra smiled broadly. “It is good! Help knee.” she pointed at the wound she had just uncovered. The blood-covered tape lay in a soggy pile. “Sew it up. See?” she held up a needle and Frank grimaced. “Not hurt!” Nyra assured him as she lay a mixture of herbs on the wound.
Mark's cries of pain subsided somewhat and Frank relaxed slightly. “Just hurry up,” he told the young girl. In no time at all his knee had been sewn up and neatly bandaged. Whatever Nyra had given him worked wonders and he couldn't even feel the cut. Hobbling over to Mark he sat down on an adjacent bed. “You okay buddy?” he asked worriedly.
Mark's eyes briefly flickered open. His pale face was drenched in feverish sweat. “He must drink this,” Shafi explained as she held up a similar bowl.
“N-no. G-gonna throw it up,” Mark gasped weakly.
“Please buddy. It'll help. I promise!” Frank begged.
“No. C-can't.” Frank buried his head in his hands, feeling completely overwhelmed. A hot hand on his roused him slightly. “I-I'll try,” Mark announced, feeling slightly guilty.
Frank took the bowl and held it to Mark's lips while Shafi lifted his head. He drank a few sips before laying back completely exhausted. “F-finished.” Mark groaned and his hands moved to his stomach. “G-gonna throw up,” he told them weakly.
“Easy, Mark. Deep breaths. Come on, you can do it,” Frank encouraged.
Barbara pulled up at the airport and looked around in disgust. “Boy this place is filthy!” she muttered, her eyes taking in the numerous piles of trash littering the grass. A cool wind whipped around the girls as they stepped out of the car. “I don't like this one bit.”
“Me either but what other choice do we have?” Kelsey sighed. “Just be on alert.”
The trio stiffened as two shady looking men approached them. They both carried themselves with confidence though their eyes held distrust. Both were wearing wrinkled flight suits and loosely tied shoes. The slightly taller one introduced himself as Jaques. “Can I help you?” he asked, a nasal sounding accent penetrating the air.
“We are here to rent the helicopter,” Barbara announced, instantly making herself spokeswoman for the group.
“Do you have the cash?” Jaques asked, his small eyes fixed greedily on Barbara. His companion glanced behind the ladies before shifting back to the trio standing before them. “Juhotta behave yourself!” Jaques commanded abruptly.
“I am prepared to pay you five thousand dollars,” Barbara answered confidently.
“Not gonna cut it, lady. I said twenty thousand.” Jaques crossed his arms across his chest.
“I can make it fifty five hundred but no more.”
Jaques's eyes narrowed. “I'm done playing games. Either you give me the twenty thousand or no helicopter for you.”
Barbara looked upset. “When I get paid I can make it fifty eight hundred but really that's as much as we can pay you.”
Jaques thought a moment. He had to play his cards wisely. Finally he kicked at the dirt, sending a small dust cloud into the air. “Sorry. I don't believe we can do business after all.” He turned around as if to walk away.
“Wait!” Kelsey called after him. She pulled the envelope out of her purse and with shaking hands, offered it to Jaques.
The pilot's eyes latched onto the thick stack of bills as he quickly counted them. “You're five thousand short.”
Kelsey bit her lip. “Please. It's all we have. Honest.”
Jaques snorted. “Fine. Get in.” He pocketed the money and gestured to the lone black helicopter sitting on the airstrip.
Frank watched Mark's uneven breathing as he slept fitfully. The pilot's was drenched in sweat as he tossed his head on the limp pillow. Frank knew that his friend's fever was rising and it was already within dangerous levels. Easing slowly out of bed he winced as his feet touched the floor. His knee ached dreadfully but Frank tried to block the feeling out of his mind.
Hobbling towards the door he nearly knocked a bowl off the shelf in his clumsy limp. Catching it swiftly he replaced it and glanced at Mark who, thankfully, hadn't awoken. Pushing back the flap of tawny deerskin Frank paused a minute to take in the early morning freshness that the wind offered him. It had been a long night.
Setting his sights on a tree-covered hill, Frank pressed onward towards his distant goal. The upwards climb was torture on his injured knee and many times he felt like giving up but the mental image of his deathly ill friend gave him the courage to continue. Unbeknownst to him, Nyra was silently following him from a respectable distance.
Finally reaching the crest of the steep incline, Frank dropped to the ground in exhaustion. Breathing heavily, he managed to catch his breath before pulling out the phone he had found by the river. With trembling hands he pressed the button and prayed with bated breath that it would turn on.
A short but merry tune slightly penetrated the stillness of the forest and Frank's eyes lit up. The phone worked! Glancing at the screen he saw he had a faint signal but it was choppy. Walking a few feet to the highest spot on the hill he held the device in the air. The signal strengthened slightly. Hastily dialing Kelsey's number he waited for her to pick up.
Kelsey jumped as her phone rang the ringtone she had been wanting to hear for so long. “It's Dad!” she gasped as she answered. “Dad oh Dad! Are you ok?!”
“Kelsey! Oh it's so good to hear your voice! Listen! We need...” At that moment, the battery went dead. Frank threw the phone on the ground in frustration.
“Dad? Dad are you still there?” Kelsey asked anxiously. “He hung up!”
Barbara's eyes were alive with hope. “At least we know he's alive! We can trace that call and find out where they are!”
Frank sat atop the hill for several long moments, completely defeated. His only comfort was that Kelsey had answered. Finally he drug himself unsteadily to his feet and sauntered back to the primitive village.
It was nearly noon by the time he returned. Dylan met him with anxious eyes. “Frank! Where have you been? We've looked everywhere for you!”
“I called Kelsey,” Frank announced less than enthusiastically.
“Really? That's great!” Dylan paused in the midst of his brief celebration. “Why the long face?”
“The phone died before I could tell her where we are at,” Frank mumbled.
“Hey! Don't be so glum. At least she answered. They can trace our call!”
Frank looked up and a slow smile spread across his face. “I didn't think of that! You're right! How's Mark?”
“No better,” Dylan sighed.
“We'd better go sit with him. I hated to leave but I had to see if the phone worked.”
Making their way into the hut, Frank sat down on a bed next to Mark and looked at the deathly still pilot with a grim expression. Dylan lay a hand on Mark's head and sighed again. “I don't know how much more he can take,” he finally announced. A faint whir from outside caught his attention. “What in the world...”
Racing to the door, Dylan looked up into the baby blue sky and used his hand to shield his eyes from the blazing brightness of the sun. His jaw dropped. “It's a helicopter!” he shouted, waving his arms and trying to signal it. “They've come for us!”
Dust spit into the air as the helicopter eased towards the ground. It stung Dylan's face but he was too happy to care. Frank hobbled out, his face alive with new hope. As soon as the engines were cut off, Kelsey jumped out of the helicopter and embraced her dad with a hug that nearly toppled him over.
“Oh Dad!” she sobbed as she looked into his face and hugged him again. “I was so worried!” Frank returned the hearty embrace, too overjoyed for words.
Barbara stepped off of the chopper being mindful of the steadily slowing blades overhead. “Dylan Caddock never again!” she scolded though there were tears in her eyes. “Don't you ever do that to me again you hear?”
“Barbara I'm so sorry,” Dylan apologized as he contemplated giving his boss a hug. Thinking the better of it he gestured to the hut. “We need to get Mark out of here and fast. He's got a really bad infection.”
After a few words to Jaques, Juhotta climbed out of the helicopter. “Yes. Let's see him. I'm anxious to meet this pilot you've spent so much money to find!”
The small group made their way into the rudimentary hospital as the few villagers stared at them with curiosity etched on their bronze faces. Barbara could not stifle a gasp as she caught sight of Mark. “Oh my...is he dead?” she nearly whispered.
Frank shook his head. “No. But he will be if he doesn't get help soon.”
Juhotta laid his evil eyes on the victim that had consumed his recent life and his heartbeat quickened. Kelsey's worried voice broke into his scheming. “We've got to get him stable before we can move him!”
Quickly snapping out of the trance, Juhotta roughly cleared his throat. “Yes! Come. We'll get the stuff. Hurry!” he ushered everyone out of the room including Frank, who, despite his mild protesting finally agreed. When everyone was out of the room, Jaques made his appearance.
Slipping silently around the corner, he waited until the others were out of sight before stepping over to Mark's bed. He stared down at the sleeping man as a slow evil grin spread over his face. He didn't hesitate as he lay a cold hand on Mark's shoulder.
The pilot's eyes flickered open, staring into the hate-filled ones of the man he never wanted to see again. A flash of recognition registered in the feverish gaze. “W-what are you doing here?!” he gasped, his feeble condition momentarily forgotten.
Jaques leaned against the wall in a relaxed gesture. He was so sure of himself, so confident. “Oh I just decided to drop by and check on you,” he said, his voice teeming with evil.
“M-my friends will see you!” Mark stammered. “J-just g-go! Please!”
“Go? Now why would I want to do that?” Jaques asked calmly. His fingertips brushed against the edge of his knife. He was itching to use it but he wanted to play with the pilot a bit first. “Really, I am a bit surprised. You're tough, Mark, but not tough enough. Now you're alone and completely helpless.”
“N-not help-helpless!” Mark gasped through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up but stopped as a razor sharp grip of pain shot through his entire body. “Agh!” he lay back with a cry of agony.
“Oh really? You just proved that. Lying to me won't help you out Mark,” Jaques laughed, a deep guttural laugh that sent chills racing up and down Mark's spine.
“W-what do you want with m-me?” Mark managed to gasp out the words.
Jaques folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head against the wall. “So that's the big question. What do I want? Oh Mark I thought you would have known by now! Perhaps I should refresh your memory. You killed my brother. I'm just here for revenge.” Jaques slowly, deliberately drew out his knife. “Revenge is best served cold you know, cold steel would do the trick. You have no clue how long I have waited for this day but first...act one begins.”
Juhotta entered the room just then with the rest of the group trailing close behind. Dylan was the first to notice the issue. “What's going on in here?” he bellowed.
With a sly grin, Juhotta slammed the door in the faces of the tribespeople and locked it. “Oops!” He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Dylan. “Everyone on the ground. NOW!” he demanded.
With a sudden burst of energy, Mark lunged up and grabbed Jaques who swiftly caught his arm and twisted it behind his back in a most painful position. Dylan hesitated before dropping to the ground along with the others.
“L-leave them alone!” Mark yelled as loudly as he could.
Jaques rolled his eyes. “I don't think so.” With that, he forced Mark to face him before kneeing the pilot in the stomach.
“Agh! O-oh...Agh!” Mark's scream echoed around the hut as he fell to his knees gripping his stomach. Jaques watched in delight as his victim continued to writhe on the ground.
Frank leapt to his feet, paying no attention to the pain in his knee. “P-please no!” he begged, his entire body trembling. “P-please! L-leave him alone!”
Jaques's black eyes narrowed as Dylan chimed in. “Yes! We'll give you whatever you want just leave him alone!”
“NO!” Jaques roared, enjoying the look of utter despair and helplessness that crossed over his captive's faces. “Bring Frank to me,” he ordered Juhotta.
“Please! No!” Kelsey wailed.
“Hush girl,” Juhotta snapped, sending a kick in her direction. He tossed his gun on the bed, bent down and grabbed Frank, who had collapsed, roughly by the arm and yanked him towards Jaques.
“Y-your fight is w-with me!” Mark gasped, struggling hard for each breath he took. “J-just let them go.”
“I think I'm having too much fun!” Jaques retorted. “I just want all of you dead so hush before I decide to put my plan into action! If you don't...” he left the threat hanging.
Juhotta thrust Frank towards his boss. “No! Let him go!” Mark sobbed.
With a movement like lightning, Jaques tossed his pistol onto the edge of the bed, grabbed Frank and pressed the blade of his knife to the elderly man's throat. Blood trickled down his neck from the pressure he applied. Frank's blue eyes were wide with unspeakable terror but he tried to gesture to Mark to be quiet.
“Stop! O-oh please stop!” Mark begged.
“The boss said HUSH!” Juhotta roared as he kicked Mark in the side. The pilot collapsed back onto the ground with a loud gasping cry as tears of pain and fear rolled down his pale cheeks. Juhotta picked up the pilot and threw him back onto the bed.
Chapter 5: Cold Steel
With an evil laugh, Jaques pressed a bit harder with his knife into Frank's neck. The man flinched and wheezed in a breath, his eyes clouding with pain. “I don't think I'll kill him yet,” Jaques decided aloud. “Juhotta come grab a hold of Frank here. I've got another surprise. Mark you're just making it worse on him.”
Obediently, Juhotta strutted forwards and grabbed Frank by the arms. Seizing the opportunity, Mark grabbed the forgotten gun and pointed it at Juhotta. “L-let. Him. Go!” he demanded, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
Jaques pulled out his own weapon and trained it on Mark. “Alright that's enough. You've got five seconds to put that gun down or you're a dead man.”
“T-tell your friend to let him go and we'll finish this like men,” Mark demanded. “You pull that trigger and I'll pull mine on him.”
“You know what, I should just kill you all now. Put the gun down NOW! Jaques yelled as he squeezed the trigger. The bullet missed Mark by inches but it startled him so that he dropped the weapon which Jaques instantly snatched up. “Good choice. Now, back to business. Where were we...oh yes! Juhotta, hold Frank up and you better be lucky I need you. Leaving a gun on the bed. Great work.”
Jaques eyed Frank critically. “Hmm...I bet that knee feels great. What if I made it feel even better?”
“NO!” Kelsey screamed. “D-don't hurt my dad!”
Jaques set the knife by the bedpost and walked over to Kelsey. “Another word sweetheart and you and your friends will no longer be among the land of the living. Got it? I wouldn't want to have to kill such pretty girls.” Rolling his eyes, he walked back over to Frank. “This won't hurt a bit!” he mocked as he sent a steel-toed boot into the back of Frank's knee.
The man buckled instantly and a cry of absolute agony was torn from his mouth. “Most satisfying!” Jaques grinned in delight. “Now wait til you experience this!” Grabbing Frank by the throat, Jaques settled himself agains the wall in a sitting position, leaving Frank in a choke hold.
Desperately, the man fought him but Jaques tightened his grip and Frank was soon struggling for even a little breath. Each he tried to take sapped his weakened body from its remaining energy. “Say your prayers, Frank,” Jaques chuckled as he completely cut off the man's air supply.
Mark watched helplessly from his bed until his gaze rested upon the knife. At that same instant, Frank spotted it too. His legs kicked out weakly as he tried to reach it, his hands clawing at the arm that was bringing him to Death's door. He managed to reach it and sent it skittering over to Mark. The pilot made his move.
He couldn't have timed it better. Jaques was caught off guard by Frank's explosive jerk and was trying to tighten the grip he had slightly loosened. Frank's eyes closed as he lost consciousness and he missed the ferocious lunge Mark made for the knife. With a tremendous effort, he leapt from the bed and grabbed the weapon in one swift movement, slashing in a blind rage at Jaques. The knife made contact and slashed Jaques's hamstring.
Jaques refrained from crying out as his grip on Frank loosened. Cursing harshly, He curled his hands into rock-hard fists and sent them flying in Mark's direction as Frank tumbled to the side. Dylan saw what was happening and tried to make a move of his own. Juhotta was kept busy trying to cover their attempt with his gun and couldn't assist his boss.
Mark just barely managed to dodge the blows and grabbed Jaques's gun from its holster. “Check mate,” he wheezed, gasping for breath.
Jaques froze, clearly shocked. Lifting his chin in a gesture of defiance he spoke. “Fine. Kill me. I've got nothing to lose anyway,” he growled.
“I n-never meant to kill your friend!” Mark replied. “Y-you left me no choice. H-had to do it for Frank.”
Jaques rolled his eyes. “Frank,” I scoff. “He's probably dead already.”
Mark turned to look at his unconscious friend and Jaques took the opportunity to make a move. “So gullible!” he sneered as he pounced on the pilot, sending him sprawling ungracefully to the floor. “I may not get your friends, but you, you will die. This ends now.” Jaques grabbed his gun.
With a deep breath, Mark looked his attacker squarely in the eyes. “I know I'm dying but I'll see you there.” His grip tightened on the knife and he thrusted it into Jaques's heart instantly silencing the burly man forever. Jaques's black eyes glimmered briefly with surprise before dulling into a lifeless stare. He fell backward, dead. Mark scooted away from the body and lapsed into unconsciousness, the bloody knife still in his hand.
Juhotta panicked and ran outside towards the helicopter, only to be met with a small crowd of angry villagers. Hastily changing his direction, he ran into the dark, lonely forest as the angry natives chased him away from the village.
Kelsey ran over to her dad and shook him gently, tears streaming down her face. “Oh Dad!” she sobbed, cradling his head in her lap. “Dad please wake up!”
Dylan walked over and took his pulse. “He's alive. Frank! Wake up buddy,” he urged.
Meanwhile, Sandra had knelt beside Mark. “Come on Mark! Stay with me here! Dylan he's got massive internal bleeding.”
Dylan eyed Mark hurriedly. “Someone get a tracheal tube, stretcher and an ambu bag over here now!”Sandra ran to the doorway where they had dropped the medical supplies earlier. She grabbed the needed items and raced back to Mark. “Get a temporary bandage on him while I try to rouse Frank. Barbara, start the helicopter please,” he ordered, his voice clipped as he tried to take control of the dire situation.
“Frank come on buddy. Wake up. I've got a busted arm and can't carry you, remember? I'll make you some good food and fix that knee but I need you up. Please Frank!” Dylan was nearly begging. Frank didn't respond.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, Dylan turned back to the others. “I want Mark on a stretcher. I can't do much with this broken arm but if Shafi gets the other end I think we can manage. Barbara and Kelsey can carry Frank.
With the natives' help, Mark was eased onto the stretcher and carried to the helicopter. Frank was hauled out as well. There was no time for a proper goodbye. A quick thanks to Shafi and Nyra was all they could manage as the small group climbed into the crowded chopper.
“Sandra! Keep squeezing that bag. I want Mark and Frank on some fluids and I want Myst on standby at Silver Springs with the OR prepped and ready. If Mark's heart should stop do not use the defibrillators. That will kill him. Chest compressions only. Sandra, close up that wound. He can't lose anymore blood.” Dylan's voice was much calmer than he felt. “Barbara, see if you can get Frank up.”
Kelsey dialed Myst's number and began talking over the whir of the helicopter blades, trying to inform Myst of the situation. Barbara made her way over to Frank and shook him gently. “Please Frank! You've gotta wake up!” she urged. With a moan, Frank came to life as his eyes fluttered open. Barbara breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “That's right, Frank. Stay with us. Mark's right here.”
Frank fought desperately to stay awake. Another moan escaped his lips. Barbara lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Can you sit up? I'm going to see to your knee.”
“S-sit up?” Frank gulped. “I can barely move.”
“I'll help. Here.” Very slowly, Barbara eased Frank into a sitting position. The elderly man winced and his face paled as he was moved. Barbara carefully rolled his pants leg up to just above his knee. Carefully she removed the blood-covered bandages and began to clean the ugly wound.
“Agh!” Frank yelped, his hands gripping the cushion underneath him.
Mark's eyes opened, dull and glazed with fever. He stared blankly past the ambu bag pumping air into his lungs at the helicopter's ceiling. Frank's head turned towards him. “M-Mark, you o-ok buddy?” For another minute, Mark continued gazing upwards. Then, ever so slowly, his head moved in Frank's direction starting at his friend with the same lifeless gaze. Frank jolted at the haunting look in Mark's eyes. “Someone do something!” he yelled, terrified.
Briefly, Mark seemed to come to his senses. Very very slowly his hand went to his pocket. He fumbled around a moment before taking it out and reaching for Frank's hand. Frank gripped it and felt something cool upon his palm. With the slightest of squeezes, Mark released his grip as his eyes closed in unconsciousness once more. Frank opened his hand. Staring up at him were Mark's dog tags from the war.
Frank glanced at them as tears blurred his eyes, then at Mark's hand which had dangled lifelessly over the side of the stretcher. “N-no...M-Mark! P-please no!” Frank begged, sobbing uncontrollably.
Barbara got down to Frank's eye level. “Frank! He's not dead!” she assured him, pointing to the monitor. “See?”
Frank's panicked breathing reduced somewhat. “S-sorry...sorry...” he gasped.
“It's ok,” Barbara told him soothingly. “You're under a lot of stress I know. Just try to relax alright?”
There was no time for Frank to answer before Mark's monitors started blaring. The pilot's body jerked as seizures racked his thin frame. Dylan glanced at the unnerving scene behind him and tried to keep the helicopter steady.
Kelsey threw down her phone and raced to assist Sandra who was having a hard time squeezing the ambu bag with Mark's thrashing. Quickly she administered a dose of fever reducers and muscle relaxers. “Come on buddy! Keep fighting!” she begged.
The flight to Silver Springs took quite a while and they nearly lost Mark several times. Frank had been given a sedative and was completely oblivious to that fact. Finally, Dylan set the helicopter gently down on the landing pad as Myst rushed out to greet them, her hair flying in dark billows from the wind the blades were making.
Scrambling out of the chopper, Mark was quickly rushed to the OR. Frank awoke then and protested violently against being taken away from his friend.
“Please Frank! You've gotta let him go!” Myst urged. “Your leg is in desperate need of attention and stitches. You can't help anyway.” Finally, Frank agreed and he was taken to an exam room.
Back in the OR, things were a flurry of activity. Dylan hastily scrubbed up, all the while giving instructions. “Get him on a ventilator Sandra. Kelsey, I want him on some blood right now. Get him prepped for surgery and hurry up. His condition is critical.”
Sandra hurried to follow through with her orders and Mark was soon attached to a machine that relieved her of the task of breathing for Mark through the ambu bag. Dylan sighed and eyed the surgical instruments. “Kelsey I'm going to need your help. I can't do the surgery because of my arm but I can talk you through it and give you tools.”
Kelsey slipped the blue gloves on her hand as Sandra adjusted the bright light above the operating table. Swabbing the wound in iodine to help prevent infection she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.
“Be careful Kelsey,” Dylan urged. “Lots of blood and fluid build up in the abdominal cavity. We need to work fast. He won't last much longer.”
Nodding her understanding, Kelsey make the guiding lines with the marker carefully before making the incision. Dylan mopped away some of the blood. “Wow this is bad...” Kelsey's voice trailed off as she concentrated. “There's so much blood and that infection's not helping at all.”
“Yeah and Frank had to widen the wound to get the bullet out and then we had to cauterize it,” Dylan added with a glance at the monitors. “Blood pressure is dropping,” he announced as he tried to hide his panic.
Kelsey's jaw tightened. "Keep an eye on it," she instructed. “I'm trying to find out where all this blood is coming from.”
“The bullet entered an inch to the right and two inches above the navel if that helps any. Also, he was throwing up blood,” Dylan offered as he tried to help. He sponged away some more blood and fluid.
Other than the beep that was mapping out Mark's heart rate and the hiss of the ventilator, the OR was deathly silent. Each of the doctors in the room knew the severity of the situation and each followed their set tasks carefully. Finally, Kelsey squinted. “Think I found it!” she exclaimed. “Dylan hand me that clamp please.” She held out a blood covered glove for it.
Dylan quickly grabbed it and handed the metal tool to her.
“How's his blood pressure?” Kelsey asked as resumed her tedious work.
“Pretty low but we're hanging in there. Heart rate is not happy though. We need to get this blood to stay in him. Sandra, bump up his O2. There's not much blood to hold oxygen.”
Kelsey took in the grave news with the courage of a lion and continued her task. “Ok I think I got it. That should help his stats.”
Mark suddenly convulsed as his heart rate shot off the charts. “Hold him down!” Dylan hollered. “Kelsey get those tools out of him before he hurts himself!”
“I'm trying!” Kelsey's voice was nearly a panicked yell. It took all her training to keep from completely losing it. “Sandra get the straps! I can't keep this up!” she grunted, trying to keep Mark from flailing off the table. The bloodied tools lay on the tray.
Mark's heart rate suddenly dropped down until it was just a quiver. “Oh please don't code now. Please don't!” Dylan begged, watching Sandra administer a dose of medicine for the seizures and continuing to monitor Mark. “Hurry Sandra! We've gotta get some more blood in him now!”
Sandra valiantly attempted to put the straps onto Mark's limbs and his jerking slowed down as the medicine took hold. “Good. Ok Kelsey, hurry up and fix that artery. His condition is critical and he is in no way stable.”
“You've got it,” Kelsey replied, her forehead wet with sweat. “I'm doing a bypass on the artery.”
“Sounds good. Just please hurry,” Dylan begged.
It took a while but Kelsey finally managed to repair some of the extensive damage. “I'm finished. How's it look?” she stepped back and eyed her work critically before looking at Dylan for approval.
“It's fine. Close that wound up and get him bandaged.”
Meanwhile, Frank was being assisted by Myst in the exam room. “I'm going to give you a local anesthetic and it's going to numb your leg so I can fix it,” she explained as she put her plan into action.
Frank sighed reluctantly. “I need to be with Mark,” he muttered as Myst began to clean the wound and repair the torn stitches. Finally he lapsed into silence as he stared at the wall, his mind racing with imagined scenes that he never wanted to see happen to his friend.
Myst was skilled in her work and was soon tying the cordage and cutting it. She applied some more antiseptic and bandaged the cut. “You should probably stay here overnight just to make sure you're ok,” she told him as she stripped off her gloves. “Especially with that nasty blow you took to your head. I'll get you settled in a room and you need to eat something so we can start your antibiotics.”
Frank put a hand to his head and gave a short laugh that was not at all a happy one. “Funny. I don't even remember hitting my head. Yeah I am kinda hungry and probably dehydrated.”
Myst nodded as she helped the injured man into a wheelchair and wheeled him to a room with two beds. Getting him into one took quite a while but the two managed and Frank was soon nestled against plump pillows in a spotlessly white bed. “I'll be right back,” Myst promised as she darted out of the room.
True to her word, she was back within minutes carrying a tray that held a tall glass of crystal clear water and a bowl of piping hot vegetable soup. Setting it onto Frank's lap she set about inserting an iv with the antibiotics. “Eat up!” she encouraged.
Frank nodded distractedly. He gestured to the second bed. “Will Mark be staying here?” he asked hopefully.
Myst nodded. “Yes! I thought you'd like that.”
“I do. Thank you very much.” Frank drank the whole glass of water and dug into his soup eating it at a very rapid pace.
Myst laughed at his reaction to the food placed before him. “Slow down! You don't need to get sick eating that so fast.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “I'm already sick so what does it matter?” he asked stubbornly though he did slacken the rate of spoonfuls to his mouth.
Myst put a hand on Frank's shoulder. “Hey you're going to be fine. All things considered you came through like a champ. Your knee may need some physical therapy but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. You look pretty good otherwise. The infection is only minor.”
Frank sighed. “Looks are one thing. Mentally I'm in another realm. I really don't need to get anymore PTSD.”
“It's important that you and Mark stick by each other and work through this together,” Myst agreed.
Nodding slowly, Frank lay back against the plush pillows as Myst removed the tray. “I thought I was passed it but I just relived a nightmare and I'm worried about it coming back.”
“We'll all be here for you,” Myst assured him.
Frank managed the ghost of a smile. “I hate to bother you but do you think I could have another bowl of soup?”
“Your wish is my command,” Myst replied. “Of course.” With that, she hurried out of the room and returned a few minutes later. “Here you go!”
Frank dug into the meal. “How's Mark?”
“I don't know. Let me check.” Myst pulled out her phone and scrolled through recent texts. As she read the one relaying Mark's current condition her stomach dropped. Hastily pocketing her phone she tried to put on a smile. “He's fine.”
The room plunged into silence a minute as Frank searched Myst's expressive eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked finally. “I want to see him.”
“He's still in surgery,” Myst told him flatly.
“What happened to you?” Frank asked curiously. “You were beaming a minute ago.”
“Nothing, just tired.” Myst tried to explain. “I'll be in to check on you in a bit.” she picked up the empty bowl of soup and made a hasty exit out of the small hospital room.
Back In the OR, things had settled down slightly. “Ok Mark's bandaged up. You want a drain in I'm guessing?” Kelsey asked.
Dylan nodded. “Yes. We need to get this infection under control."
Working quickly, Kelsey soon had the drain in and secured. “All done.”
“Great. We need to keep him in the ICU. He's not stable enough to be far from a coding station. Also, we should probably give his heart some chemical help as well since it's insistent on scaring me.”
Kelsey nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I'm sure my dad would like to see him sometime soon too.”
Dylan hesitated as he wheeled Mark's gurney down the halls. “I'm not so sure that's a good idea. He's been through so much already and seeing Mark like this probably won't help. Besides, he's a doc. He knows the odds of surviving sepsis.”
“I know but it was Frank who pulled him through the last time,” Kelsey reminded as she pulled out her phone. “I'm going to let Myst know what's going on.”
Myst's phone buzzed and she read the text. As much as she hated breaking the less-than-happy news she knew Frank would be furious if he found out that she hadn't have told him his friend's current situation. Hurrying back into his room she relayed the information. “Mark is out of surgery. They're taking him to the ICU.”
Frank's face paled. “The ICU, why?”
“I-I don't know but Dylan is on his way.”
In Mark's room, Kelsey hooked the pilot back up to the ventilator and sighed. Dylan watched the mechanical rise and fall of his chest before swallowing hard. He knew Mark was clinging to life by a thread. “I-I'll let Frank know. If he wants to see him I won't stop him. Get him on some strong antibiotics and I sent a blood sample to the lab.” He pulled out a shot. “Give this shot of adrenaline to him and pray his heart doesn't stop.” With that, he headed for Frank's room.
Kelsey continued to watch Mark's nearly lifeless body for another few seconds before administering the antibiotics and the adrenaline into his chest. “Please please work...” she whispered softly, her eyes glued to the heart monitor. To her great relief, Mark's heart rate settled into a weak but steady rhythm.
Frank stiffened as Dylan stepped through the door a couple of minutes later. “How is Mark?” he asked quickly.
Dylan didn't say anything at first as he contemplated lying. Finally with a heavy sigh he plopped down onto a chair. “He's out of surgery and has been taken to the ICU. F-Frank, he's lapsed into sepsis. You can see him if you want but...I've got to warn you. T-the prognosis is not good.” Dylan struggled to keep his emotions in check.
Frank took a deep breath, trying to process the information. “Thank you for not lying to me,” he replied quietly. “I'd like to see him if that's ok,” he added numbly.
With a curt nod, Dylan helped Frank ease into a wheelchair and rolled him to Mark's room. Even though Frank had tried to prepare himself for the scene, he was taken aback at the sight of Mark. The room was somber and dim, the only sounds were the hissing of the respirator forcing air into Mark's lungs and the slow beat of the heart monitor.
The pilot himself looked dead. His face was deathly pale, eyes closed. Scratches graced portions of his emotionless face, part of which was obstructed from view by the breathing tube jutting out of his mouth and secured by white gauze. His stomach was covered with hefty bandages leaving only a small space for the drain, also secured by gauze. Nothing about him except the slight movement of his chest gave evidence that he was still among the land of the living. The iv attached to his arm slowly dripped a combination of fluids and powerful antibiotics into his body and the monitors were also connected to him by wires. Frank nearly passed out at the sickening scene before him.
Dylan could hardly look at Mark and Frank. “I-I'll give you two a moment,” he told Frank huskily as he ushered Kelsey out of the room.
For a long moment, Frank just sat there staring, trying to contemplate the turn of events and Mark's condition. He couldn't process the overload of overwhelming senses and emotions he was feeling. Finally he slowly rolled the wheelchair over to Mark's side. “O-oh Mark...I'm so so sorry...” he whispered. Mark didn't stir or even give a sign that he could hear his friend. For a long while, the two sat together in utter silence.
About fifteen minutes later, Dylan returned. He checked the tubes and took Mark's temperature. Then he sat slowly down in a chair which he scooted next to Frank and put his arms around the grief-stricken man. “I won't go into details but you know the odds of surviving sepsis. The fact that he pulled through surgery is a good sign but we nearly lost him, Frank. His heart nearly stopped beating and he isn't breathing on his own. Right now we're trying desperately to lower his fever and fight the infection.”
Frank's body shuddered. “Y-yeah that's pretty much all we can do other than sit here and wait. I-I feel so helpless.”
Dylan nodded. “I know Frank. We're doing all we can but this is his fight. I-I think you should prepare yourself though.” he added grimly as he spoke words he had prayed he never would have to tell anyone. Pulling an object out of his pocket he handed it to Frank. “Here. I think you should keep this for him.”
Frank took the item, a signet ring on a chain. “D-Dylan I can't. You keep it.”
“Really, you should. I can't find his dog tags so take this and keep it safe.”
Shaking his head, Frank reached into his own pocket and pulled out the dog tags. “I have them. See? Mark gave them to me on the helicopter.” he handed the ring back to Dylan.
At that moment, Mark's heart rate stuttered a bit and his fingers twitched ever so slightly. Dylan hurried to his side. “I think he's coming out of the sedative,” Dylan announced as he pressed the call button.
Sandra hurried in with a halfway pleasant smile on her face. “Do you need something?”
“Yes. Can you get a sedative? I think it's best we keep Mark sedated so his body can have a chance to heal.”
Sandra nodded and hurried out of the room. Frank rolled his wheelchair over to Mark. “Hey buddy,” he greeted his friend softly. Mark's eyes flickered open and his head turned towards Frank, gazing at him with a lifeless stare that sent shivers racing up and down Frank's spine. “Y-you ok?” he stammered.
For a long moment, Mark just stared into the worried face of his friend, unblinking. Suddenly, a hint of recognition flashed into his glazed eyes and he reached for Frank's hand. Frank took it eagerly. “Mark you've gotta fight. We're all rooting for you. Don't give up ok? I'll be right here. I won't leave. I promise.”
Mark gripped Frank's fingers but there was no strength whatsoever in his grip. It seemed to be taking a massive amount of effort just to keep his eyes open. “Sandra!” Dylan called, worried about the drop in Mark's stats.
Sandra returned a few seconds later with a syringe. “Sorry it took me a minute to find it.” She quickly injected it into the pilot's iv. “There.”
Fear registered in Mark's eyes. Frank squeezed his hand. “Hey it's going to be alright. Take a nap ok?” he encouraged.
Shaking his head slightly, Mark forced a weak breath against the ventilator and immediately his face went ashen with pain as his heart rate sped up. Dylan spun around. “Mark don't! Your body can't take that right now. Just try to relax and get some rest.” He lay a damp cloth on the pilot's feverish forehead.
Signs of pain were etched on Mark's face. He glanced from Dylan to Frank and back again before his body began to relax as the drugs began to run their course. His eyes slid shut and his hand inched off of Frank's in small increments as he fell asleep. Dylan sighed. “It's ok Mark. We're all here for you.”
Frank squirmed uncomfortably as the room plunged into silence once more. Finally, Dylan tore his eyes away from the unconscious pilot. “I'll let Barbara know what's going on. Frank, I can help you to your room if you want,” he offered.
“No. I'd better stay here. I did promise after all,” he added. “But...I'm about to fall asleep.” As if to confirm his words, Frank began to nod off.
“Hang on a minute. Let me help you into the recliner.” It took a while but he, finally managed to settle Frank in the comfortable chair. “Now get some sleep. We all know you've earned it.” With that, he left the room leaving Frank alone with Mark. Frank shut his eyes and instantly fell asleep.
Chapter 6: Family Reunion
Frank awoke several hours later to a woman's voice talking softly. Opening his eyes he spotted Barbara sitting in a chair with a worn book that she was reading. “Oh I didn't hear you come in! Please excuse my awful manners,” Frank apologized, embarrassed.
Shutting the book Barbara smiled slightly. “It's ok. I know you were tired.” She gestured to Garrett who was curled up in a heap beside Mark, his eyes closed. Faint traces of tears graced his cheeks. “Dylan needed some rest so I came to relieve him. He thought it might be a good idea if Garrett came in case this is his last...” her professional air slowly crumbled to dust as tears threatened to spill.
Frank straightened in his chair, unable to speak. Barbara regained some of her composure and continued. “I wanted to protect him from this,” she admitted, standing and walking over to Garrett, absently running her hands through his sandy hair. “He was exposed to so much with his father...being the way he was. I had to explain to Garrett that Mark was in such bad shape and that we needed to accept it if he was to tired to fight anymore. H-he took it ok I guess.” The way she said it did not match the words she had spoken.
“He probably doesn't fully understand what's going on,” Frank tried in vain to comfort the distraught woman. Nobody lives forever though we usually take life for granted.”
Barbara sobbed quietly, her shoulders shaking. For once she didn't care who saw. “I-I don't want to say goodbye to him!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking with intense emotion. I don't want to bury him, to accept that flag that's going to be on his coffin...” her words were barely above a whisper but Frank heard them all the same.
“He'll fight, Barbara. He has before and he will again. You know he's tough. We'll all be here for him no matter what. That's for certain.”
“I know. Garrett has made it clear that he's not leaving,” Barbara sniffled as she wiped away her tears. “Oh, Dylan wanted me to ask if you think it's a good idea to call in his family. I know they don't have a good relationship but i-if their son is dy-dying they might like to know.”
Frank stiffened and put a finger to his lips. “Unconscious people can still hear things whether we realize it or not,” he cautioned.
Barbara's hand flew to her mouth. “I-I'm sorry. I'm not myself...worked too many hours. Still, Dylan wanted your opinion.”
Frank sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to ignore the persistent throbbing in his knee. “It's really his decision. Mark is badly hurt but I know he can pull through. What does Dylan think?”
“He thinks it might be best.”
“Well whatever he thinks I'll go along with. I just hope the stress won't be too much for Mark.”
“Great. I'll go tell him.” Barbara turned and walked out of the room.
Closing his eyes, Frank waited in the quiet room. The peace was abruptly interrupted by Garrett's frantic yell. “Mum! Mum!”
Frank jolted into a sitting position, his eyes fixed on Mark. “Garrett what's wrong?!” he asked anxiously.
Garrett was breathing heavily, his hand clasped around Mark's. “I-I just had a terrible dream!” he wailed.
Barbara poked her head back through the door. “You alright Garrett?” she asked, concerned.
Shaking his head, Garrett continued to cry, his sobs racking his thin body. “I-I don't want M-Mark to die! H-he can't fly the plane if he's d-dead!”
Quickly, Barbara was at her son's side, stroking his back. “Shh it's alright dearest,” she soothed. “You know Mark couldn't stand it if Dylan was made captain and got to wear his hat. He'll be fine,” she assured with more conviction than she felt. “He just needs to rest. How about we go get some dinner? We can get a bag of things for Mark.” Barbara's eyes pleaded with her son.
“Yes. That's a good idea!” Frank backed Barbara up. “I know Mark will love whatever you bring him.”
The little boy finally agreed and slid off the bed with a last fond squeeze to Mark's limp hand. “See you soon, Mark,” he murmured before leaving the room without a backwards glance. Barbara mouthed a thank you to Frank before tagging along after him.
Sandra walked in a few minutes later bringing in a portable ultrasound. Frank looked up but didn't say anything. Sandra gave him a half-smile. “I'm going to give Mark another round of antibiotics and sedatives, change his bandages and a couple of other things,” she explained as she swapped out an IV bag of saline and injected a separate clear liquid into it. Frank simply nodded. Sandra expertly undid Mark's bandages and cleaned the wound.
“How's it look?” Frank asked anxiously.
“No better, no worse,” Sandra sighed, gently replacing the white bandages around Mark's abdomen. “His stats seem to be stable so that's good. I'm going to preform an ultrasound to see if the drain is doing it's job.” Quickly she smeared on the cool gel and used the device to capture an image of the drain. “It seems to be working, no complications that I can see. Good. He really doesn't need anymore of those.” she wiped off the thick substance and rolled the ultrasound out of the room calling behind her shoulder, “I'll be right back with some diet supplements for him.”
True to her word, the friendly doctor returned a few minutes later and fed Mark through the feeding tube. “That should do it. Need anything Frank? You still look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep.”
Frank shook his head and stifled a yawn. “I'll take a nap but I really don't need much of anything.”
Sandra nodded and regarded him with anxious eyes. “Alright then. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything.”
“I won't,” Frank promised as he drifted back off to sleep.
The next time Frank awoke, Kelsey was checking Mark's pulse and the IV. Voices sounded down the corridor and Dylan stepped into the room followed by Barbara and Garrett who seemed much more cheerful than he had been earlier. “Hi Mr. Miers!” he greeted enthusiastically as he drug in a large bag that seemed to make his small figure dwarf sized.
Dylan walked over to Frank and put a gentle hand on the elderly character's shoulder. “Charlotte and her two kids are getting on the next plane. They should be here tomorrow afternoon,” he announced.
Frank nodded. “I hope we haven't made a mistake.”
“Well it's too late now,” Dylan sighed. “I think we'll all just have to be careful. Have a good nap?”
Shrugging, Frank replied, “It was fine.”
Kelsey bent down to Garrett's eye level after catching Barbara's worn out expression. “Hey Garrett!” she exclaimed in a pretty convincing excited tone of voice. “What if we decorated Mark's room so that when he wakes up he'll have a surprise!”
Garrett's face lit up with joy. “Yeah!” He agreed happily. “We can make a sign and everything!”
Smiling down at him, Kelsey stood up. “Barbara I'll watch him for a bit. You go get whatever you need done,” she offered.
Barbara nodded gratefully and tousled Garrett's hair. “I think I'll do that. Thank you so much. Garrett,” she called lifting the little boy's chin until his eyes met hers. “You be good alright? Remember this is a hospital not a park.”
“Ok Mum!” Garrett instantly agreed with a winning smile. He began to haul flight manuals, posters and Mark's captain hat out of the tan duffel bag and scatter them around the room as Barbara left.
“Here's a box of markers and colored pencils!” Kelsey told him as she set a small bin full of brightly colored writing utensils onto the floor. “And here's some paper and tape. I figured we could tape several pieces together to make a bigger sign. Here! Why don't you help me?” Sitting down on the floor, Kelsey taped three pieces of paper together and pushed it over to Garrett who began drawing with great vigor. Kelsey made her own banner and began to color the letters in green.
Frank watched amusedly for quite a while before asking for a piece of paper of his own. Picking up a blue-gray pencil he began to draw the outline of something. Garrett stared at it for a while before his curiosity reached a breaking point. “What's that?” he asked.
“It's a plane...an F22 Raptor to be exact,” Frank explained, barely pausing in his work.
Kelsey stepped over to admire the extremely realistic drawing. “Dad that's amazing!” she praised.
Frank smiled slightly. “It's not too bad.”
“Dad you know you're a great drawer. Hey Garrett I found some balloons. Let's blow some up for Mark and hang them!”
Garrett clapped his hands eagerly together, grabbed a red balloon and tried to blow it up. His cheeks puffed out comically and his face grew bright red before he managed to get a tiny bit of air inside the rubber balloon. Kelsey laughed gently. “Here I'll do it. You can hang up your sign if you want.” Taking another balloon she quickly made it the size she wanted, tied the end and blew up a couple more.
After another fifteen minutes or so, the room was completely decked out. A colorful “Get Well Soon!” banner hung above the door and Garrett's was taped to the wall to Mark's right, slightly messier but made with love. The balloons hung down from the corners of the room and from the end of Mark's bed. It was a cheerful scene to the once plain white room.
“It looks great, Garrett!” Kelsey grinned, giving the wriggling six year-old a quick hug. “You did a great job!”
Barbara returned just then and admired the decorations before stepping over to Mark's bed. She lay a gentle hand on the pilot's forehead and frowned with concern.
Frank looked up and jumped, startled. “What's wrong? Is his fever worse?” he asked, worried.
“I think so. Sandra took it earlier and it was 103.4.”
Kelsey stood up, her playfulness a thing of the past. “I'll get him something. Frank, use this cloth and water. Lay it on Mark's head. We need to get this fever down.” With that, Kelsey hurried out of the room.
Frank grabbed the two items and dipped the soft cloth into the cool water. He spread it on Mark's forehead and the pilot groaned but didn't protest. Garrett came over to the bed, realizing something was wrong. “Is Mark ok?” he wondered.
“He's got a really high fever,” Frank explained.
Garrett tugged at the blankets, the only source hiding Mark's injury from the little boy's innocent eyes. “Maybe he's hot under the covers!”
Frank glanced wildly around the room. “Yeah maybe he is hot...Garrett! Why don't you go outside and play with Bella for a bit? She needs to run.”
Garrett thought a moment. “Ok,” he agreed slowly as he took Bella by the collar and led her out of the room. As soon as he left, Frank threw the covers off of Mark's sweltering body.
Kelsey knocked on Dylan's door. “Dylan you need to wake up!” she urged, holding the medicine for Mark in her left hand.
Dylan stirred on his bed. “Give me five more minutes...” he replied groggily, already almost asleep again.
“Dylan please!” Kelsey begged. “Mark's fever is spiking again.”
That was all Dylan needed to hear. His feet hit the floor with a thud and jerked on his shoes. Yanking the door open he hurried to catch up with Kelsey who was just returning to Mark's room. A beeping sound greeted their ears as entered the cheerful room to a most un-cheerful scene.
“Heart rate is elevated,” Dylan announced, trying to take control of the situation. “We need to get this fever under control right now.”
“He's already on a lot of fever medication but I can up the dose a bit,” Kelsey decided as she put her thoughts into action. Frank re-wet the cloth and lay it on Mark's forehead as he looked on, helpless as he was confined to his wheelchair.
“Let's get a cooling blanket on him. I don't think he could take the stress of induced hypothermia which I would normally recommend,” Dylan suggested as his eyes watched the heart monitor intently.
Kelsey grabbed the needed item and lay it over Mark. “I'm sorry to wake you,” she apologized.
“Mark is more important than my sleep. We need to keep an eye on his temperature. If it drops too low too fast we could have seizures on our hands and we can't have that. Oxygen stats are lower than I'd like. I'm going to bump his O2 up a bit.”
Nodding, Kelsey did her best to make Mark comfortable. “So...is it your parents coming from England or Mark's?” she inquired.
“Mark's mother and brother. His step-sister may come if they can get a hold of her,” Dylan replied with a touch of uneasiness.
“I'm sorry if I offended you!” Kelsey quickly realized he didn't seem open to the conversation.
“No no, you didn't,” Dylan assured her. “I'm just having second thoughts on the fact that we invited them to come. They don't care about him or they would never have disowned him. I'm just worried about the stress this might put on Mark.”
“I need to get my pain medication,” Frank broke the momentary silence. “My knee is killing me.” He rolled his wheelchair out of the room and disappeared around the corner.
Mark's limbs twitched intermittently under the freezing blanket as his heart rate sped up to a dangerous pace. A muffled grunt of pain escaped past the breathing tube.
“I'm going to give him this sedative. I really hope he doesn't start seizing. Watch his temperature Dylan,” Kelsey reminded.
Frank wheeled back in a minute later and Mark calmed down somewhat. “He knew I left didn't he?”
Dylan forced a slight smile. “You two have a bond like nothing I've ever seen before. Kelsey his temperature is 103.1.” Mark's fingers twitched despite the drugs as he unconsciously fought the fever raging within him. Kelsey tried to calm him down to no avail. “Up his dose of sedative. If this keeps up we may need to look into restraints. We really don't need any torn stitches.”
Kelsey did as instructed and watched Mark anxiously. The pilot's body continued to jerk at random intervals. Dylan sighed. “Go ahead and get the restraints.”
Hurrying out of the room, Kelsey returned shortly with the straps dangling from her hands. Tossing Dylan two she carefully buckled Mark's hands down as Dylan did the same with Mark's legs. Looking over her work she nodded, satisfied. “That should hold.”
“There. Let's just hope we have a quiet night. I'll sit up with Mark. You two can head on to bed,” Dylan urged.
Frank yawned. “I had a nap but I'm still exhausted. I told Mark I wouldn't leave. I'll just sit in the wheelchair and doze off. You can have the recliner Dylan.”
“No Frank. You have the recliner and I'll sit in your chair. I insist. Besides, that can't be good for your neck. I'm not tired.”
After a round of mild protesting, Dylan won out. Draping Mark's quilt over Frank's lap he dimmed the lights and faithfully watched Mark's stats all night.
Chapter 7: Broken Ties
Frank woke up with a groan the next morning. His body was stiff and sore but his knee put that discomfort to shame. Dylan looked his way and smiled. “Mornin' sleeping beauty,” he snickered in an attempt at a tease. “You know you sleep when you snore, right?”
Rolling his eyes, Frank straightened in his chair, being careful of his injury. “Must have slept well then. How's Mark?”
Dylan sighed. “His stats dropped during the night, nearly had to get one of the girls but they stabilized. They look pretty rough this morning though,” he admitted as he gestured to the heart monitor.
Frank winced and lay his head back against the soft back of the recliner. “That tea you're drinking looks good. I've tried for years to make it the way Mark did for me way back when but mine always turned out like rubbish.” he cracked a grin.
“Well we British know how to do it best. After all, it's one of the things we're known for. Want a cup?” Not stopping to wait for an answer, Dylan poured a cup of the strong coffee from a thermos sitting on the bedside table into a second mug and handed the piping hot drink to Frank who took it eagerly. Looking at his watch, Dylan sighed. “I've gotta pick up Catherine. She's going to be here earlier than we thought. Keep an eye on Mark ok?”
“Of course. I won't leave him. You know that,” Frank promised earnestly.
Half an hour later, Dylan returned. Loud voices echoed down the hall. Barbara was sitting with Frank to keep him company. Garrett was staying with a friend and was not in the room. The voices made their way down the hall coming closer and closer before entering into Mark's room. Dylan walked in, looking like he was about to explode. A well-built woman followed close behind, obviously Charlotte.
Charlotte was in a class by herself. She was tall, fit but sturdy. Her blouse was gray and fashionable with small ruffles and her black skirt lightly brushed the floor, also expensive looking. The pleasant smell of a costly perfume hovered around her and her copper colored hair was pulled back out of her face and trailed down her back in long, silky waves. Her voice was irritatingly high and overly friendly. It was apparent that she had not stopped talking since she had met Dylan at the airport.
“...Oh and Dylan!” she cooed as she pinched his cheek, much to his embarrassment. “You never did introduce me to Barbara! She's a lovely dear isn't she!” Charlotte gave Dylan a coy smile and turned to Dylan's boss with a wide grin. “Oh dear! Is this the lovely lady that your dear employee told me so much about? You're a fine looking thing aren't you? What lovely eyes. Yes, you're a picture of beauty. Of course you couldn't hold a candle to my own kids but no matter dear. You'll do.” She still hadn't spotted Mark her mouth was running so fast.
Dylan cleared his throat and rubbed his cheek. “Y-yes,” he stammered. “Barbara is a nice lady.”
“Oh I bet! She looks the part, dear. You all look lovely. It's a shame you aren't in England. It's a lovely time of year. Where's that darling little boy of yours Barbara? I'd just love to plant a kiss on those cheeks of his. Little boys have the rosiest cheeks you know...” her voice trailed off dreamily. She clasped her hands together. “So! Where is that boy of mine?”
Sandra gave Dylan a look of disbelief before pointing to the bed. “Right there.”
Charlotte's attention turned off of Barbara and rested on her son. Her immense smile faded slightly. “Oh my!” She exclaimed, rushing over to him. Her high-heels clicked on the floor. Bending over his head she showered his face with numerous kisses. “Oh my dear boy! Whatever has gotten into you!?” her high voice squeaked as she picked up his limp hand and kissed that too before rubbing it.
Dylan took a deep breath at the infuriating friendliness of Charlotte and tried to keep calm. “Ma'am, I would suggest you be careful. Mark is in a fragile condition right now.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Oh nonsense!” she cooed. “Mark dear you look well for someone who's as sick as you. You're such a charmer you know that? It's a shame you're lying here. We'll get you better. You just wait and see now darling,” she gushed, calling him so many endearing names that the others nearly gagged.
Charlotte's son Stewart sauntered over. He was stout and had very dark brown hair, nearly black. His plaid shirt was green and white and his blue-jeans covered the tops of his black tennis shoes. “Blimey,” he mumbled. “One little bullet did all that?”
“He has been through a lot,” Sandra confirmed. “He's a trooper that's for sure.”
Stewart's sister Catherine stepped up to the bed. She was slender and thin, tall and fragile looking. Two strands of her light brown hair were twisted down the side of her head and joined at the back with a barrette.“Oh Mum he looks terrible!”
“Terrible! I should say not!” Charlotte contradicted. “A little pale but he's strong. He's like an old car. Give him a kick and he'll start right up. Aren't you Mark? You sweet thing you.”
Dylan took a deep breath and summoned all his patience left. “Ma'am I'm sure you wished to be informed of your son's condition?”
Charlotte nodded. “Why yes of course! However did you know? Oh! You must be a mind reader! That's talent Dylan, real talent...”
Cutting off her next words, Dylan plunged into the story. “Your sun is suffering from a severe infection known as sepsis following complications from a bullet wound to the stomach. As of right now he only has a thirty percent chance of survival as this infection is hard hitting. We currently have him on strong antibiotics and stomach drain to help clear the infection. He is also on a ventilator as he cannot breathe on his own at the moment.”
Charlotte had remained quiet throughout Dylan's briefing but when he was done she turned to her son. “Oh Mark! Oh...oh...who shot him?!” She burst into a dramatic outburst of tears and nearly threw herself across Mark in grief. Sandra jumped into the mess and pulled her back.
Mark's heart rate shot sky high and his arms jerked against the restraints. Charlotte was now in a downward spiral of hysterics. “Sandra!” Dylan nearly had to yell above the sobs. “Get another sedative! Fever's spiking again and heart rate is plummeting. Get a dose of adrenaline while you're there and hurry up! Everyone else please stand back!”
Sandra lunged for Charlotte who was diving for Mark. “No! Stop!” she screamed. “You can't do this! Can't take me away from my son!”
Frank's face was absolutely furious and he was gripping the arms of his wheelchair so tightly that his knuckles were completely white. Despite his fever and despite everything else going on around him, Mark had the presence of mind to slightly grip Frank's sleeve. That little gesture subdued the rage burning inside Frank and calmed him down somewhat.
Dylan stepped between the bed and Charlotte. “Ma'am as Mark's doctor I have to do what's best for him. I need you to back up so that we can get this situation under control. If we don't he could code and then we'd really have a situation on our hands.” Dylan was nearly at his wits end.
Barbara stiffened defiantly. “Why Dylan!” she huffed. “I'm his mother! You think I don't know what is best for my son!?”
Sandra returned just then with the medicine and Dylan was grateful for her timing. Without answering her question he turned all his focus on her. “H-here's the...stuff!” Sandra panted.
Grabbing the syringe, Dylan injected the powerful combination of sedatives and antibiotics into Mark's IV and released the adrenaline into Mark's chest. “Come on Mark...come on buddy...” Dylan murmured.
Charlotte's eyes grew round. “What did you just do!?” she screeched. “Stop this madness! You're hurting my poor boy!”
Summoning all his willpower, Dylan ignored the woman who Sandra was trying to keep away from Mark and watched the pilot's grip ease off of Frank's sleeve. “Easy Mark. We're here. It's alright,” he soothed.
Seeing she was getting nowhere with Dylan or Sandra, Charlotte wiped away her tears. “I'll be back later.” she said it with sudden resolve and Dylan didn't feel comfortable with the way she said it. Brushing the unpleasant thoughts to the back of his mind he yanked the door open as she marched out, followed by Catherine and Stewart.
As they disappeared around the corner he gently closed the door and leaned heavily against it. “Thank goodness she's gone!” he breathed. “Yikes Frank! Take it easy will you? She's gone!” He addressed the elderly man who was shaking all over in rage.
“I-I want to strangle that woman!” Frank hissed. “Look what she did to Mark!”
Sandra sank down in the recliner, mentally exhausted. “What is wrong with that woman?!”
“I am so sorry you had to keep her away from Mark like that, Sandra," Dylan apologized. "I-I never should have invited her here.”
“Yeah I wonder if you threw water on her she'd melt,” Frank snapped.
Charlotte quickly stepped down the hall and nearly ran into Kelsey who was coming around the corner. Both girls skid to a halt. Putting on a cheery smile, she spoke. “Excuse me! I didn't see you. You must be Mark's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you! Your son is quite brave. You should be proud of him.”
“Proud! Why wouldn't I be?” Charlotte snapped. “This hospital has terrible service! Where's the manager?”
Kelsey straightened and looked Charlotte square in the face. “My boss is away but I am in charge while she's gone.”
“You? You're just a kid! You can't run a hospital! No wonder you have such terrible staff! Give me your boss's phone number.”
“Ma'am I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation...” Kelsey tried to reason with Charlotte.
“No! I asked you for the phone number. Now give it to me,” Charlotte demanded.
Catherine tugged at her mom's sleeve. “Mum please! Let's just work this out.”
Charlotte's eyes narrowed and she nearly lost her cool. “Catherine hush. My rights have not been upheld and I demand that you give me the phone number this instant.”
Kelsey took a deep breath. “Ma'am my boss is not to be disturbed. While she is away I am manager and as such I take responsibility for this hospital. Now, sit down and we can talk about this please.” The doctor's voice was courteous but ice cold.
“You are not listening!” Charlotte snapped. “Your stupid doctor forced me away from my son! She used force! How do you account for that?”
“Ma'am, Sandra is my best friend. She would never harm anyone. I'm sure she had a good reason.”
“Oh so now I get it!” Charlotte sneered. “You have favorites. She hurt me!”
“If what you say is true, let me see your arms.” Kelsey was extremely upset.
“My what...Why?” Charlotte demanded.
“Ma'am if she used harsh force you would have a mark on your body. Now prove yourself and show it to me.”
Charlotte's face reddened slightly. “You keep your filthy hands off of me! Give me that information NOW.”
Kelsey was about to explode in anger. With a deep breath she summoned her last remaining ounce of dignity and kept her gaze locked onto Charlotte's furious stare. “Will you force me to have to escort you out? I am manager at the moment and my boss cannot be disturbed. I have strict instructions.”
“You are lying little miss! I shall be back!” Spinning on her heels, Charlotte marched out of the hospital, her head held high. Catherine gave Kelsey an apologetic smile as she followed Stewart outside the building.
Kelsey slumped against the wall breathing heavily and trying to get herself under control. It wasn't the fact that she had been called a liar that made her mad. It was because her friends had been utterly disgraced by a faulty accusation. “Next time you come back you'll be lucky if I don't slam the door in your high-and-mighty face,” she muttered under her breath. “Good riddance to you!”
Chapter 7: Tensions Rise
The rest of the day passed without much event. Kelsey fumed and fretted the rest of the evening but Charlotte did not make another appearance. Mark's stats remained much the same and that was some relief but his condition did not seem to improve though it didn't grow any worse.
Early next morning, Charlotte was back, followed by her two children. Kelsey braced herself but forced a smile that was not at all convincing. Her eyes shot daggers at Charlotte. To her surprise, Charlotte lifted her head higher and marched right past. “Just you wait Miss Kelsey, just you wait.” Her voice was infuriating.
“Just wait till I call the police for disorderly conduct and threatening hospital staff!” Kelsey shouted inwardly though she kept her mouth shut. The trio disappeared around the corner.
Charlotte waltzed up to Mark's room and entered it without knocking. Both Frank and Dylan jumped as she entered the room before heaving a silent sigh. Dylan stood up. “Good morning Miss Charlotte. I hope you had a pleasant evening. Now, I'd like to discuss something with you. I trust you have questions and concerns about your son's care and treatment?”
“Of course, Dylan,” Charlotte's voice softened slightly as she put on a more pleasant act for him. “Is he going to die?”
Dylan looked uncomfortable. “I-I don't know. He isn't doing very well right now. If he wants to fight he will. We're just trying to keep him under as little stress of possible. Being around the ones he loves will help with that.”
“You mock me Dylan,” Charlotte told him rather harshly. All earlier attempts at flattering him vanished. “If you think you're so smart mister, tell me why my presence made him get worse yesterday!”
“Why don't you ask him yourself?” Dylan retorted with a steadying hand on Frank's shoulder.
“And how am I supposed to do that if you keep him all drugged up and sedated?” Charlotte flashed back.
“Ma'am, we keep him sedated for his own good. If he's focused on his situation, all the stress of trying to breathe on his own and the stomach drain, it will hinder his recovery. Perhaps you should sit with him awhile and talk. It's amazing what unconscious people can hear.”
Charlotte hesitated momentarily. “Ah...I guess I could.”
“Be my guest. Press the call button if you need anything,” Dylan reluctantly agreed as he ushered Sandra out of the room.
“May I stay?” Frank asked with little hope.
“I would like some time alone with my son so if you'll excuse me...” Charlotte replied sharply.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Frank painfully exited his chair and sat in the wheelchair before leaving.
Charlotte sat down in the recliner. “Well son, it looks like someone actually cares about you here. I have tried to be patient, tried to be kind but you are so stubborn my dear boy! You have broken my heart. I didn't want you to become a pilot. I tried to convince you dearest but did you listen? No! Oh my son you have no idea the anguish you have caused me.”
Mark lay still and quiet, seemingly oblivious to Charlotte's words. “Mark I am a widow. This is what you have left me. My dear son, you took my husband to the grave with his grief and left the burden upon me. I love you but I simply cannot bear the pain you have caused our family. Catherine is so fragile, Stewart so cold. Our life has been shattered.”
Ever so slowly, Mark's eyes fluttered open and he stared at the ceiling with an unblinking gaze and emotionless face as Charlotte continued. “Your father, I know he came off as cruel. He was only trying to teach you. Oh Mark, he loved you. He wanted you to grow up and be successful. I fear you have thrown away your opportunity. Mark he is dead!” Charlotte's voice shook with emotion, all part of a convincing act.
Flinching a bit at the mention of his father, Mark's hand stretched slowly until it was touching Charlotte's sleeve and he gripped it like a lifeline, still staring at the ceiling. His throat worked against the breathing tube as he tried to say Mum. A knock at the door interrupted the tense moment.
“Mum can Stewart and I come in?” It was Catherine outside.
“Yes, yes of course,” Charlotte agreed as the two stepped inside the room. “Mark, these children of mine have missed you terribly. The way you left them, they were so upset when you joined the Air Force, and without our knowledge! Catherine didn't stop crying for days. Oh Mark they love you so much. We couldn't bear it when you left.”
Catherine stepped over to Mark and lifted his hand into her. “Yes Marky. We missed you so much little brother! A-and you never came around after Dad died. You could have at least told us where you were going.”
“That's right, Mark. We were all so confused. Your father...he chafed and fretted and...and he couldn't live with the thought of you gone. His son. His little boy. He aged ten years that week Mark, made himself sick a-and now he's gone forever. He isn't here to see the man you've become.”
Mark shuddered as tears rolled down his cheek. He glanced at the trio briefly before surrendering to unconsciousness. “I know you two had your differences but he was only trying to make you understand. You get that, Mark, don't you?” Charlotte asked.
The door opened and Dylan stepped in followed by Sandra. “Sorry to interrupt but we've got to check on him,” he announced rather coldly.
“Good timing. We were done talking anyway. He did wake up briefly. I think we'll be leaving for now. Is there a hotel around here?”
“There is one two blocks from here,” Dylan answered distractedly as he turned to Mark and gently began to undo the bandages that were neatly wrapped around his abdomen to expose the festering wound. “Sandra, I'll clean the wound if you want to get his medicine. Charlotte, did Frank step out?”
“I sent him out. We needed some time alone,” Charlotte replied, standing up. “I haven't got a car so can someone be so kind as to take me?”
“I'm surprised Mark didn't have a fit,” Dylan muttered under his breath as he looked up when Kelsey walked in.
“I'll drive you,” she offered, trying to give her friends a break. Charlotte studied the slender girl gazing at her calmly but with obvious fury simmering beneath the surface just waiting to boil over. “And,” Kelsey continued. “If you think I am not a capable driver I will assure you that I have my license.” She held up a card. “You can ask anyone here.”
“Fine,” Charlotte agreed with a suspicious look about her. “I'm sure you won't get me too badly injured. After all, you're a doc. You can fix anything or my name isn't Charlotte. Is that right?”
“You are perfectly safe madame. Now, please follow me.” Kelsey snapped, her anger mounting in her eyes and proclaimed through the rigidness of her body. The four left Mark's room, plunging it into a satisfactory silence.
“Is he looking any better?” Sandra asked a few minutes later when their annoyance had settled down somewhat.
Dylan sighed and gently tucked the last fold of the bandage he had replaced under another strip to secure it. “Not really. Still a lot of pressure on his diaphragm at least he tried to breathe on his own a bit but his infection hasn't made much progress if any” he admitted as he examined his work with a critical eye and sat down to wait for Frank.
He didn't have to wait long. The door opened slowly and Frank emerged looking tired and upset. “Is everything ok?” he asked with eyes only for Mark.
“He's fine. Where have you been off to?” Dylan questioned.
“I just rolled around the halls. I needed some exercise anyway. Charlotte kicked me out,” he added bitterly.
“So I heard. That woman's quite a handful. I don't think Mark likes here here. Oh, here's the latest readings off the ventilator.” Dylan handed Frank the chart. “See these blips here and here?” he pointed to two sections. “He at least attempted to breathe. Couldn't quite get a full breath in but it's a start.”
Frank nodded his approval. “He's fighting that's for sure. He just needs to hang in there and not give up.”
"He's fighting, Frank, you know that. He'll pull through."
“Yeah. We've just gotta keep believing that,” Frank mumbled as he picked up a book lying on the nightstand. “We'll be alright. I'll see if I can't finish this book before morning.” With that, Dylan left the room.
Frank looked up from the last page on his novel the next morning as the door opened. Dylan poked his head in and the rest of his body followed. “Everything ok in here?” he asked with a tired smile.
“His heart dropped a bit about an hour ago but the rest of the night was uneventful,” Frank announced.
“Ok we'll keep a close eye on that today.” He stepped over to Mark's side and critically inspected the IV and drain. “Everything looks secure. I guess we'll be graced with Ms. Holbrook's presence sooner or later,” he added with no attempt at hiding an eye roll.
Frank sighed. “Yeah, Kelsey left a few minutes ago so I guess she'll be back soon.”
“Oh joy,” Dylan huffed. “I believe you are right.” The door opened abruptly and Charlotte stepped in, followed by Kelsey who looked like she was about to blow a fuse. “I trust you had a good evening Ms. Holbrook?” Dylan asked with a forced attempt at being polite.
At that very moment, Mark forced a weak but noticeable breath against the ventilator. Charlotte rushed over to him. “Oh Mark what a good boy!” she cooed dramatically. “Can you do another for your dear ol' Mum?” she added coaxingly.
“Hang on,” Dylan interrupted the one-sided conversation. “His heart rate is a little low this morning and we don't him straining so just let him rest for now.”
Charlotte straightened and looked Dylan square in the eyes. “But he wants to! He's trying to prove he hasn't given up on us, haven't you my dear boy?” she asked, her attention turning back to her son as she pinched his pale cheeks.
Dylan could hardly manage to restrain himself. “I know but he's exhausted. He'll more than likely try again later. Now please, let us do what we need to do to help him.”
“You're just standing there,” Charlotte retorted, leaning against the wall. “You told me what happened to him but you didn't bother telling me how. You and I both obviously have plenty of time so commence the tale please.”
“Sure. I can tell you as soon as I change his bandages again,” Dylan reluctantly agreed as he carefully unwound the strips of gauze, revealing the ugly scars and traces of infection.
Charlotte's jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the sickening sight before her. “Oh my...what did you do to him?!” she screeched, hurting everyone's ears within earshot.
“We had to cauterize the wound! He was bleeding out! What would you have done in a situation like that?!” Dylan's voice was hardly quieter as he came close to losing his cool.
He eyes growing as wide as saucers, Charlotte balled her fists. “You WHAT?! Why would you do something like that?! Please tell me he was sedated!”
“Of course not! We crash-landed a plane into a river! I assure you your son is made of some tough stuff.”
Now, Charlotte's face was beet red. “You are a terrible person! This is all your fault! Why did you crash?! What were you doing?! Trying to kill MY SON?!” she yelled.
“Charlotte please!” Dylan hollered, exasperated. “Your son is a pilot! He was just doing his duty. It was not our fault and planes are what he loves! Why can't you just accept him for what he is!?”
“I didn't want him to be a pilot!” Charlotte retorted. “I hate pilots! They're so stuck up and selfish and they have such dangerous jobs and...what is that?”
Mark had managed to let a muffled cry escape past the breathing tube as his whole body went rigid. The monitors began to blare as his heart rate dropped to almost nothing and the pilot went completely limp. “Dylan!” Frank yelled, his face completely white with fear.
Nearly shoving Charlotte aside, Dylan lunged over to Mark. “Kelsey! Sandra! Get in here now!” he bellowed as loudly as he could. “Oh Mark come on don't code now!” he begged as he yanked the blankets off. “Frank talk to him! He cannot code. Please!” he pleaded as he watched the monitors, his eyes glued to the screens.
“M-Mark please buddy!” Frank urged his friend, his voice shaking with fear and emotion. “P-please you've got to stick around. Fight b-buddy fight! L-listen to my voice. J-just focus on that. Please buddy I'm begging you!” the elderly man picked up Mark's limp one and held it tightly.
Sandra and Kelsey raced in, nearly tripping over each other in their haste. One glance at the room and they needed no further explanation. “W-what's going on here?” Charlotte asked nervously, unsure of the life and death situation playing out before her.
“His heart is stopping. He's coding!” Dylan snapped, no censor on the sharpness of his voice. “Get back now and stay out of the way! Kelsey get that adrenaline into him! Sandra charge the defibrillators. NOW!”
Mark's body jerked once and then his heart gave out. The pitch of the alarms was nerve racking to say the least. “No no no!” Sandra cried.
“Shock him!” Dylan ordered, completely tense, his only focus on the limp body lying before him. “Come on Mark. It's not your time.”
“P-please Mark don't go!” Frank begged, tears streaming down his face. “P-please buddy you've gotta keep fighting!”
Sandra placed the charged paddles on Mark's chest. “Clear!” she yelled. The others raised their hands and Sandra delivered the shock. Mark's body recoiled as if he had been shot before lapsing once more into an unnatural stillness.
“Shock him again!” Dylan demanded.
Sandra charged the paddles and gave Mark another shock, only to receive the same results. “Mark please!” Dylan beseeched his friend, his eyes dripping with tears. “Shock him again! We can't give up on him!”
For the third time, the paddles buzzed in a rising pitch as they charged and were applied to Mark's chest. They delivered the shock without failure. Mark's entire body arched off the bed then flopped back. For another second there was no pulse. Then, the flat line on the heart monitor jumped slightly.
“Kelsey! The adrenaline!” Dylan ordered. “Oh Mark thank goodness!” He exclaimed, his legs turning to jelly.
Hurriedly releasing the stimulating medicine into Mark's chest, the three doctors waited with bated breath for the results they hoped would bump up the pilot's dangerously low heart rate. To their great relief, it picked up to a slow but steady beat. “Oh thank you Mark,” Frank sighed.
“We're not out of the woods yet, Dad,” Kelsey reminded solemnly as she watched Mark's stats like a hawk.
Charlotte had been silent up until this point. Now, with a look of rage she pointed a finger at Dylan. “YOU! This is all YOUR fault! Get away from MY son!”
“I just SAVED YOU SON'S LIFE!” Dylan roared, exasperated beyond measure.
Stewart strode into the room along with Catherine. “You can't talk to my mum like that!” he growled. “I'll punch you right in the gob!”
Mark's heart rate slowed slightly, and Sandra's grip increased on the paddles she still held. Charlotte payed it no mind and she whirled on her son. “You! Stay out of this.” Turning back to Dylan she wagged her finger at him. “Tell me who else was with you and you had better finish telling me everything right now.”
Dylan glared at her, too angry to notice Mark's vitals slowly dropping again. “Frank and I! Frank was in a wheelchair at the time and Mark was flying the plane. He was shot through the window and the left engine was clipped off by a missile, which, by the way, WOULD have killed ALL of us if he hadn't evaded it like he did. But what does it all matter?”
Charlotte pretended to ponder the question. “Oh nothing, but tell me this. Who rescued you and what happened then?”
We were rescued by a group of natives and stayed there until Kelsey got a helicopter to take us back here. But again, what does it matter?” he asked, his voice not even softening as he caught sight of Barbara and Garrett walking silently into the room, their faces wearing question marks.
“I'll have you know that Mark is an excellent pilot and I would not have hired him if he were not,” Barbara told Charlotte stiffly, breaking into the tense conversation.
Garrett tugged Dylan's sleeve. “D-Dylan...” his voice trailed off as Barbara frowned at him.
“Hush Garrett, we're trying to have a grown up discussion,” she scolded harshly.
Charlotte ignored Barbara's earlier statement. “It is none of your business and I have a right to know don't I?” she asked with a haughty sneer.
“Well of course but...”
“You need to read your hospital books again or whatever it is that you use because you CLEARLY don't know how to work in a place such as this. I am utterly ashamed and I will be...”
“STOP IT!” Garrett yelled, tears racing down his cheeks. “We could hear you yelling down the hall! H-he's dying and a-all you care about is yourselves! We promised we'd be there for him and now he's scared and alone and you don't care!” he crawled onto the bed beside the motionless pilot and wrapped his thin arms around his body protectively. “I'm here Mark. I love you and you aren't alone any more. Don't be scared,” he whispered softly.
Charlotte's mouth dropped open. “Why you impertinent little...” she stopped herself just in time and the room plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Charlotte seemed to have made up her mind on something. “Well, I'm leaving. It's obvious he doesn't need or want me here and now I just don't care. Come along Stewart and Catherine.”
“N-no Mum,” Catherine shook her head, her voice shaking. “I-I'm staying with Mark.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Ruin your own life along with his. Goodbye.” she slammed the door and disappeared out of sight.
Chapter 8: An Unexpected Calling
The room instantly plunged into an unnerving silence. Dylan finally snapped out of the trance-like state that he had been left in and registered the slow beat of Mark's heart. Sitting in Charlotte's vacated chair he picked up Mark's limp hand, feeling the sluggish pulse. “Oh Mark I know you're tired buddy, I know. Thank you for putting up a good fight. As your friend I can't ask for more than that,” he murmured softly.
Kelsey took a deep breath. “I-I'd like to apologize. I'm sorry about what happened. There is no excuse for us hollering and in front of Mark too. Mark, I don't know if you can hear me buddy but if you can, please know that I am so sorry about all this and please accept my apology. You too Garrett.”
Tears trickled down Dylan's face. “Yes I'm sorry too. So so sorry,” he whispered to the unconscious pilot. “Where's Frank?” he asked suddenly.
“In the recliner silly,” Frank mumbled.
The somber mood was interrupted as Kelsey's cellphone buzzed and erupted into a merry tune that did not match the gloomy atmosphere. Kelsey's body tensed slightly. “E-excuse me, I need to take this.” Hurriedly stepping out of the room she left the others behind.
Dylan sighed. “I-I'm sorry...i-it's just h-he might be saying goodbye and I t-think it's best that we were all here.
Frank sat straight up. “Wait what?!” N-no! He can't!” he exclaimed as the others' eyes grew wide with realization.
“H-he's just so tired,” Dylan sighed, tears in his eyes. “His heart beat is so slow even with the adrenaline.
Garrett picked up Mark's other hand. “It's ok Mark. We're all here. It's ok,” he whispered into the pilot's ear. His body was shaking with suppressed sobs.
Kelsey returned to the room, her face slightly pale. “What's going on?” she asked worriedly as the tension broke through her earlier thoughts and gripped her like a vice. The mood in the room was anything but cheerful.
“I-I think he might be saying goodbye,” Dylan repeated mournfully as he burred his face in his trembling hands.
“Oh no...” Kelsey whispered with a long glance at Mark. Sitting beside Frank she leaned her head against his shoulder.
For the longest two hours of their lives, they just sat there, waiting. Waiting for a last gasp or rattle of his lungs and the last beat of Mark's heart. Waiting for the monitor to sound an uninterrupted tone, waiting for him to die. Nobody moved, nobody made a sound. Their presence was enough, their silence their only comfort. Many tears were shed, a silent goodbye in the works.
As the long minutes ticked by, nothing happened. Dylan finally sat up straighter. “Well...” he began, his voice husky. “I'm not optimistic yet b-but it's been two hours and he's still fighting. I-I don't think this is goodbye yet.
Unconsciously, all of them sighed with relief. The unbearable tension eased somewhat and a faint sense of peace filled the room. “H-he'll fight. He won't give up on us,” Frank murmured, his voice barely audible.
Kelsey's phone went off again and she lifted her tear-stained face off of Frank's shoulder where it had rested the whole two hours and she sighed. “I'm sorry,” she apologized as she put the phone to her ear.
Easing his cramped body off of the chair and onto his feet, Dylan put a gentle hand on Mark's shoulder. “I'd like to keep him sedated for now though he's doing a good job of that on his own. I don't want any stress put on his body whatsoever.
Sandra nodded agreeably. “I'll go get it.” she hurried out of the room.
“Hello?” Kelsey was saying. “Yes ma'am...you what?! O-Ok...I'll see you soon then...yes...goodbye.” Her face was slightly upset as she hung up and nervously placed the phone back into her pocket.
“Everything alright Kelsey?” Dylan asked, turning his attention to her.
“Uh...yeah....I hope so...” she paused and faced the door before turning quickly back to Dylan, a bundle of nervous energy. “Ah...do you think you can help me clean this hospital really fast?” Kelsey asked distractedly as she began straightening Mark's room.
“I guess,” Dylan answered, looking slightly puzzled but asking no questions. He glanced back at Mark, trying not to show how reluctant he was to leave his friend. “Barbara and I will help. Frank and the rest can stay with Mark.
Sandra returned just then and quickly added the sedative to Mark's iv. “That'll do it,” she announced.
Kelsey informed her of their plan and the three set off to complete the slightly daunting task set before them. Despite Dylan's worries they had the whole hospital cleaned to Kelsey's satisfaction within two hours. Then the foursome returned back to Mark's room. Frank looked up as they walked in. “What was that all about?” he asked his daughter.
Hesitating slightly, Kelsey tried to make light of it. “Oh, nothing Dad. Don't worry about it alright?” she asked with a weak smile.
“Let me know when you want to talk about it,” Frank sighed, knowing full well what Kelsey was trying to do.
“I think I might take a nap,” Dylan announced with a yawn. The stress of earlier had left him both physically and mentally exhausted.
Frank nodded. “Alright I'll stay with him.”
The others left then, leaving only Garrett, Mark and Frank in the quiet room. Garrett had fallen asleep and was curled up next to Mark, his eyes closed. He looked peaceful enough except for the numerous traces of tears that had dried upon his pale cheeks. His arm was thrown protectively around Mark's middle. Frank looked at the two and heaved a heavy sigh.
Garrett stirred a few minutes later. Sitting up he looked at Mark worriedly, then at Frank who forced a smile. “Is he gonna be alright?” the little boy asked with obvious concern.
“You're worried about him too, huh?” Frank asked, slightly dodging the question.
Nodding, Garrett's lower lip began to quiver. “I-I don't think they have planes in Heaven for him to fly! I guess h-he would have wings but Mark wants to be a pilot. Not an angel.” his innocence brought tears to Frank's eyes.
“You never know, buddy. There will be so much other stuff to do there that I doubt he'll miss it. But I don't think he's ready to leave us yet. He's hanging in there, Garrett.”
“Yeah I guess,” Garrett sighed, unconvinced at Frank's reply to his earlier statement. Climbing off the bed he knelt beside Mark's flight bag, unzipped the zipper and rummaged around for something which he pulled out a minute later, a stuffed otter. “This is Mark's,” he announced as he held up the ragged plush toy. “He's had it ever since he was little and he carries it around everywhere.”
If the situation hadn't been so serious, Frank would have teased Mark about it. But now he couldn't even smile. It was slightly ironic that the tough man Mark seemed to be would still be carrying around a stuffed animal but no one outside of friends and family would know and Frank decided right then that he wouldn't ever make a big deal about it.
Garrett tucked the soft otter under Mark's arm. “There. Maybe it'll make him feel better.”
Frank nodded. “Yeah I'm sure he'll appreciate it when he wakes up. You're a good friend to him, Garrett.”
“If he ever gets better,” Garrett murmured downheartedly.
“Listen buddy,” Frank urged. “Mark is an amazing person and he's as tough as nails. He has a spunk to him that few people could match. He'll be alright. You'll see,” he told him, much more confidently than he felt.
“I know,” Garrett admitted. “I want to be like him when I grow up.”
Frank smiled slightly. “He makes a good role model doesn't he? He's a great person to look up to, that's for sure.”
To their amazement, Mark stirred slightly on the bed and his eyes opened halfway. Garrett raced over to the pilot who was still so out of it that he wasn't startled. “Mark! Mark you're awake!” Garrett almost yelled his relief.
“Hey Garrett,” Frank called softly, trying to calm the exuberant fellow down. “Can you go get one of the doctors for me?” he asked. “I can't get out of this chair.” He pointed to his knee.
Mark stared blankly ahead, clearly not lucid by any means. Garrett looked a long moment at his friend, sighed then reluctantly nodded. “Sure.” he scampered out of the room.
A few minutes later he returned, nearly dragging Sandra by the hand. “Kelsey looked a little bit upset so I got Sandra instead,” he announced.
“What's up Frank? Oh! Mark you're up!” she exclaimed, slightly surprised. Hurrying over to the bed she peered at him anxiously but Mark didn't seem to even notice that she was there.
“I think he needs another round of sedatives,” Frank told her.
“Yes I was actually on my way over here to do that so it was good timing,” Sandra smiled gently at the elderly man before pulling out a syringe of clear liquid and injecting it into the IV.
“But he's awake. Isn't that a good thing?” Garrett questioned, confused.
“Well...in a way it is, but it makes him tired when he's awake and then he gets worse. It's just best to keep him asleep for now so his body can have a chance to heal a bit,” Sandra exclaimed, bending down to Garrett's eye level.
Mark seemed to rouse slightly despite the medicine beginning to take effect and weakly sucked in a half breath against the machine. Sandra rose quickly and walked over. “Hey Mark, don't do that right now buddy. We need you to rest. Don't exert yourself right now ok?” she kept her voice soft and soothing.
With a barely audible sigh, Mark surrendered to the overwhelming power of the sedatives and drifted back off to sleep. Garrett picked up the pilot's hand. “Just sleep Mark, it's ok,” he urged in his childish way.
Kelsey burst into the room. “Sandra she's going to be here really soon. I need you in the office as soon as you're done. Oh and please get Dylan. I'll get Myst.”
Frank looked up at his daughter in slight surprise. “What's going on dear?” he asked.
“Lillian,” Kelsey mumbled as she walked out of the room, not catching the worried look that appeared on Frank's face. Finding Myst, she paced the office as she waited for the others.
Sandra quickly finished with Mark, hurried down the hall and rapped softly at the closed door. “Dylan, Kelsey needs us in the office right away,” she called.
Dylan's eyes opened. “Alright, I'm up,” he yawned, his voice cracked with sleep. He groggily rubbed his eyes and sat up, combing his fingers through his hair before padding to the door. “What's going on?” he mumbled, still half asleep.
“I'm sorry to wake you,” Sandra sighed as she looked over his rumpled clothes and disheveled appearance. “Kelsey wanted to talk to us.” Quickly, she led him down the hall.
Kelsey halted her pacing as soon as the two stepped into the office. “Good. You're here. I guess some of you don't know what's happening...but I guess you need to know.” Her manner was quite straightforward and blunt, slightly surprising Dylan who had not seen this side of Kelsey before. Sandra leaned against the wall, not quite sure what to say.
“Kelsey, is everything alright?” Dylan questioned, slightly worried.
Taking a deep breath, Kelsey hesitated. “I-I hope so. M-my boss is returning.”
Dylan's jaw dropped. “Y-your boss? Why?”
“Y-yeah I run this hospital when my boss Lillian is away. She travels all the time and is hardly ever here except to check up on everything. S-she can be a bit difficult so if you could please be on your best behavior I would really appreciate it.” Kelsey shifted restlessly and Sandra could tell she was agitated.
Nodding, Dylan tried to swallow his growing nervousness. “I will,” he agree. “I won't let you down.”
Back in Mark's room, Catherine had just arrived. Smiling hastily at Frank she sat by the pilot's bedside and looked at him with a sad expression. Garrett's mother had taken him home so other than Mark, just Frank and Catherine were in the room. She picked up his limp hand and squeezed it lovingly.
“Oh Mark, I know there's a lot left unsaid between us. Dad was never really nice to any of us, but he was worst to you. Still, I remember all those times we would play in our tree house and you would tell those stories that took us to all those exotic places that you read about all the time. I remember the day you left. I remember thinking that I would never get to see all those places we dreamed about.”
Frank brushed away a tear at the tender scene playing out before him and sighed inwardly as Catherine continued. “I-I guess what I'm trying to say is that you owe me ok? So you've got to pull through this. Mark you've got to get better so you can take me for real, ok?” she was sobbing now, tears falling on the back of Mark's hand which she had pressed against her cheek.
Mark took another slight breath and twitched, a feverish sweat running down his face. “Mark? Mark it's alright. Just take it easy,” Frank encouraged gently.
In the office, Kelsey jumped, startled as the door opened. In stepped a woman who instantly demanded a person's attention. She was extremely attractive and slender, well dressed in a white shirt with an expensive looking leather jacket and dark blue jeans. Her blonde hair was slightly curly and slightly longer than her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were sharp and piercing, lips unsmiling and pulled tight across her face, giving it an almost displeased expression. She had her chin tilted a little too high, seeming to proclaim an air of haughtiness and pride. Her black high-heels clicked on the hard floor. “Well well! Long time no see Miss Kelsey!” she greeted with a cool, and not very pleasant smile.
Kelsey's hands were trembling behind her back. “Hello Mrs. Lillian. It has been awhile hasn't it?”
“Yes. Yes it has.” Lillian scanned the office and her eyes rested on Dylan who was trying his best to smile pleasantly. “And who might you be?” Lillian asked with an air of superiority.
“I'm Dylan. Doctor Dylan to be exact. I'm an attending doctor here. Kelsey hired me,” he paused as his pager beeped, demanding his attention. “I'm sorry. I have to take this. We've got a patient in critical condition.” With that, he hurried out of the office.
Lillian's eyebrows rose slightly but she quickly recovered. “Yes of course. I wouldn't keep you. Kelsey, I need you to come with me. I'm going to make sure you've been doing your job. Sandra, you are dismissed. Run along now.” Sandra gave Kelsey an encouraging smile and quickly obeyed, heading after Dylan. Kelsey followed her boss with rising dread as they headed on a full tour of the hospital.
Dylan stepped through the doorway into Mark's room. “You paged me?” he asked as his attention was drawn to Mark.
“Yeah. His fever's spiking again,” Frank sighed.
Dylan sighed. “Oh man. Come on Mark! I-I don't know what to do about this fever. It seems to go down for a while and then spike back up as soon as his meds get low or when we least expect it.”
“I'll get him another fever reducer then. Frank, Kelsey's boss is here by the way,” Sandra announced as she left to fetch the needed item.
Taking a deep breath, Dylan sighed again. “I just feel like it's not doing much. He's just so tired.” Sandra returned just then and administered the medicine through Mark's IV. “Hey, Lillian isn't going to come in here is she?” Dylan asked her worriedly.
Sandra shrugged. “With Lillian you never know. She's pretty nosy. And, if you couldn't tell already, she keeps Kelsey on edge and nervous. She's extremely picky and does things by the book. No exceptions. Kelsey is the fifth manager she's hired in the last twenty years.”
“I-I'm sorry,” Dylan apologized slightly sheepishly. “I guess I'm just very protective of him right now. Especially after the whole Ms. Holbrook incident. I just don't want him stressed or hurt. I guess it is her job though and I did promise to behave so I will.”
A few minutes, the door abruptly opened. Lillian stepped in and stopped short, her gaze resting on all the decorations. “What is this? A party room?” she asked with a slight smile that began to diminish.
Dylan stood abruptly. “Ma'am, this is Captain Mark Holbrook. He's our critical patient at the moment.” He paused, seeing Lillian eye the decorations with growing displeasure. “Yeah...sorry about all that. His little friend thought it would help him get better. I mean who can say no to an adorable six year-old?” he laughed nervously.
“I can,” Lillian admitted without batting an eye. Turning around, she looked squarely at Kelsey who had come up behind her. “Kelsey, you've done a fair job keeping the hospital orderly. This room is not exactly protocol but I'll let it slide this once. After all, we have more important matters to attend to, don't we?” Her smiled returned but there was a suspicious glint in her eyes.
Kelsey fidgeted, betraying her nervousness. “Y-yes ma'am. I suppose you want to go over the records and such?”“Right you are. I'll take a look myself. I don't need any interruptions.” Without further ado, Lillian stepped around Kelsey and left the room.
As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, Kelsey sank into a chair. “We've got a problem,” she mumbled.
“What's the matter Kelsey?” Dylan asked worriedly, upset that his friend was so worked up and under so much stress.
Kelsey looked flustered. “If Lillian just so happened to look at Mark's records which I know she will, and she sees everything we've been through and did to him she'll have a fit! She can't stand people not following protocol. I-I don't know what I'm going to do!”
“We never bent any rules with him did we?” Dylan asked with a sigh. “I can hardly remember I'm so dead tired right now.”
“I can't remember either,” Kelsey admitted tiredly. “I guess we'll find out soon. How's Mark?”
“Fever is down a bit. Heart rate is a bit rapid but I think I'd prefer that to how slow it was this morning. His blood pressure still looks terrible. Still a good bit of swelling in his abdomen but we are making progress with the drain. No attempts to breathe today that I'm aware of,” Dylan reported.
Kelsey nodded. “Well, hopefully he'll continue to improve. He's hung in this long.”
Dylan chuckled a bit to himself as he eased into a chair, close to Mark's side. “You know, the first thing he's gonna want when he wakes up is to brush his teeth and take a shower. To Mark, cleanliness is next to godliness.”
That brought a slight smile to Kelsey's face. “Is that so?” she laughed softly. “Well I'm sure that can be arranged.”
Lillian popped her head into the room. “There you are. Kelsey, I need to see you in my office. Come along now,” she ordered, her face betraying nothing.
Kelsey sighed inwardly. “Of course Mrs. Lillian.”
Dylan gave her a hopeful thumbs up as she followed her boss towards the office. When the two had left, he turned to Sandra. “I'd like to set him up for an ultrasound in a bit to see exactly how much progress he has made and if we need to start encouraging him to breathe on a more regular basis.”
“Good idea!” Sandra praised. “That's good. We can totally do that. Hey...I think it's time for another round of fever reducers. I'll go get that now.” She hurried out of the room and was back in less than a minute, breathing hard and her face as white as a ghost. “Dylan! Get in here now!” she nearly yelled.
Chapter 9: Shattered Lives
Dylan raced towards the door, after Sandra. “Frank stay with Mark!” he ordered over his shoulder. “Sandra whatever is wrong?!”
Sandra was shaking and Dylan couldn't tell if it was anger or because she was just so upset. “I-I know eavesdropping is wrong b-but I had to walk past the office and I couldn't help but overhear their conversation! Listen!” she urged, her voice nearly a whisper.
“...No. You may not. I can't believe this! I trusted you!” Lillian was saying, in a not at all friendly tone of voice.
Kelsey's voice was muffled and sounded panicked. “P-Please Lillian! I didn't mean any harm!”
Dylan glanced worriedly at Sandra. “What do you think is wrong?” he asked, barely able to keep his voice low.
Sandra looked very upset. “I-I have no clue!”
The tension rose higher as the conversation in the next room grabbed their attention once more. “...Look Kelsey. I know you meant well but we can't have that here. You know as well as I do. This is serious! I've got a good friend and she'll be great, perhaps even better. You'll get over it.”
It was obvious that Kelsey was now sobbing. “N-no! Please! You can't do this!”
“This doesn't sound good at all,” Dylan whispered, worry evident in his eyes.
“I'm sorry but it's already settled. You may go now. Remember what I said,” Lillian was saying, her tone having turned cold.
Lillian's voice had a finality to it that seemed to settle like a rock. With another heart-wrenching sob, she yanked the door open and came face to face with a startled Sandra and Dylan. One look at her tear-stained face, and Dylan's stomach dropped. “What's wrong Kelsey? What's going on here?!” Kelsey could only shake her head and push past them, trying to escape down the hall, going nowhere in particular.
Sighing as if in remorse, Lillian fingered a small statue of a dog sitting on the polished wooden shelves, well stocked with books. “What do you think happened?” she asked coolly.
“I-I don't know,” Dylan admitted. “Look if this is about the decorations, I can take them down. Mark's sort of a special case here. PTSD patients need to be treated differently.”
“Go ask her yourself then. It's not about the decorations and I am way too busy to explain. I'm leaving. I'll see all...er...most of you tomorrow.” Brushing past him, Lillian waltzed out of the room.
In Mark's ward, the pilot stirred on the bed, moaned slightly and opened his eyes. He registered that he was somewhat alone. He tried to look up, seeking the source of the pain he was feeling, and in the process, yanked on the breathing tube. The presence of that was abruptly made known then, and next the restraints as he began to panic. Mark tried to cry out but he was deterred by the tube in his throat and all he managed was to gag. His weak heart began racing, his feverish mind insisting he fight back.
Frank sat up. “Mark? Mark it's alright. I'm right here. In the chair see? I'm waving. Look buddy, I need you to try to calm down for me, ok?”
Shaking his head weakly, Mark moaned again and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to suck in enough breath to cry out but the pressure from the ventilator prevented his doing so. Frank painfully hobbled to the bedside and looked Mark over. “Mark I'm your friend,” he reminded gently. “I'm not going to hurt you. Listen, you really need to calm down buddy. You're safe in the hospital with me.”
Mark tried to jerk his hand in the direction of the abdominal drain, but again, the restraints deterred his movements. “Mark, it's alright,” Frank reassured. “Do you need a painkiller?” He glanced around for the call button and spied it on the floor where apparently it had fallen undetected. Frank sighed, knowing it would be nearly impossible to pick up with his injured knee.
Trying hard to twist on his side in an effort to ease the pain he was feeling but could not verbally express with words, he was detained by the unyielding straps around his wrists, increasing his panic. Shifting painfully to his bad leg, Frank gripped the bed in an effort at not crying out in pain as he pressed the red call button with his foot.
Meanwhile, Dylan ran down the long halls and corridors, seeking Kelsey. Thinking he heard sobs, he skid to a halt and opened the door to the break room. His efforts were rewarded. Kelsey was curled up on the couch, crying as if her heart would break. “Kelsey what happened?!” Dylan asked as he sat down beside her.
Sandra had followed Kelsey into the room and sat down on Kelsey's opposite side. Kelsey tried hard to control her sobs long enough to talk. With a major effort, she managed to regain some of her shattered composure. “I-I w-won't be work...working here a-anymore!” she exclaimed before any earlier calmness left and she began crying in earnest again.
“Oh Kelsey,” Sandra whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She put her arms around the sobbing woman in a hug, trying to comfort her friend. Her pager beeped but she couldn't bear to tear herself away from her distraught friend. Texting Myst, she returned her attention to the scene playing out before her.
Dylan's compassion turned into anger, though not directed at Kelsey. “What? Why?!” he demanded sharply.
Kelsey leaned back amongst the cushions, trying in vain to stop crying. Her eyes were closed, an expression of utter anguish etched on her features. “C-Charlotte is s-suing t-the hospital! L-Lillian got a c-call and n-now she's firing m-me! O-oh I can't believe this is ha-happening!”
“What?! What for?!” Dylan nearly yelled. “That woman was bloody crazy!”
“I-I don't know,” Kelsey sobbed. “A-all I know is t-that I'm f-fired.”
Dylan clenched his fists, lack of sleep finally catching up to him. “I'm-I'm calling that woman right now! And then I'm calling your boss. I will fix this, Kelsey. Don't you worry.”
Kelsey shook her head vigorously. “D-Dylan please don't! Y-you'll just make things worse!”
“No! I'm going to fix this. If anyone should be fired it's me. I will set things straight!” Dylan retorted.
“D-Dylan, w-we really don't need t-two people fired. R-really, I'll b-be fine. I just need some t-time.” Kelsey collapsed into Sandra's arms and couldn't speak for tears.
Ignoring her and running on pure anger, Dylan stormed out of the break room and dialed Ms. Holbrook's number, waiting for her to pick up.
Myst had been awoken from a nap when her phone buzzed, announcing a text. Scanning the contents, she jumped out of bed and ran to Mark's room. She found Frank desperately begging the pilot to stay calm. “What's going on?!” she asked urgently.
“H-he needs a painkiller and a sedative now!” Frank announced, slightly harshly.
Myst ran to get the needed items and was back within two minutes. Quickly she administered the doses into Mark's IV. “Easy Mark,” she soothed the panic-stricken man. “It'll kick in shortly.”
Mark gripped the sheets of his bed tightly, his eyes haunted with fear. “Mark please,” Frank begged earnestly. “It's ok. I'm right here. Just focus on my voice. Everything's ok.” The pilot's bloodshot eyes blinked lazily before slipping shut as his body succumbed to the powerful sedative. Frank settled back into his chair with a grateful smile at Myst. “Thanks. Hey...where is everyone?”
“I was asleep. I really haven't seen anyone around,” Myst replied as she checked Mark's vitals and the abdominal drain. “Everything looks secure. Just call me if you need anything else.”
Stepping outside, Dylan waited impatiently for Charlotte to pick up. The slight delay in her answer gave Dylan just enough time for his anger to cool to a slightly more manageable rate. Finally, Charlotte picked up, and her voice was actually cheerful. “Hello? Who is this?”
The sickeningly sweet voice bumped Dylan's anger back up to a frightening level. “What on earth would you sue the hospital for?!” he growled angrily, causing Charlotte to have to hold the phone further from her ear.
“Why Dylan! How nice of you to call!” Charlotte cooed, ignoring Dylan's dangerous tone of voice. “Sue the hospital?! Why would I do that?” she asked cautiously.
“We were told by Kelsey's boss Lillian that the hospital is being sued by you. I demand to know what for,” Dylan hissed.
“Oh that's easy. I don't approve or like the way you have been treating my son. You and your friends have been terribly rude. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go. I have business to attend.” Charlotte abruptly hung up before Dylan had a chance to reply.
Exasperated, Dylan furiously dialed Lillian's number which he had found in the office. Lillian answered almost instantly. “Who are you and what do you want?” she asked warily, not recognizing the address.
“This is Doctor Dylan Robertson from the hospital,” Dylan announced. “I am calling to discuss the legal matters that have been charged against us.”
There was a slight pause before Lillian answered. “Yes? What about it?”
“I would like to know exactly what was laid against us. Perhaps I can clear up this misunderstanding.”
Lillian laughed coldly. “Oh I assure you there has been no misunderstanding. Nothing is going to change. My friend will be arriving tomorrow morning to take Kelsey's place as manager. Nothing you do will change the circumstances.”
“But I can straighten the facts!” Dylan argued. “I know it looks bad but we were just doing what was best for Mar...uh...the patient!”
Sighing, Lillian responded. “Look! I hardly even know you. I mean I just met you today! For all I know Kelsey set you up.”
“I assure you she did not but even if she did it wouldn't matter. I was taught to stand up for what's right. Come on. Even you know that the well-being of a patient is more important than anything else,” Dylan huffed.
“That woman was his mother. She has a say in the way things go,” Lillian pointed out in a bored tone of voice.
“But she isn't a doctor! He was coding and she wouldn't let us near him! He could of died!” Dylan was nearly yelling.
“I have read his medical records sir, and they are an absolute mess. Don't even get me started. I could argue with you for hours and I would win,” Lillian warned.
“That's not his fault nor ours!” Dylan retorted, on the brink of losing his cool completely. “We can't predict how each patient will react to a certain medicine or procedure! Please! Kelsey has saved his life more times than what's on even that file! We have followed every protocol to the best of our ability!”
“I really don't care,” Lillian sighed. “Everything has already been settled. I believe this discussion is over.”
“Wait!” Dylan called. “You can't just fire her with no reason!”
“Look.” Lillian's voice was low, threatening and ice cold. “I own that hospital and I can do as I please with the status of MY workers. And, don't try arguing with me about that not being a reason because you just implied yourself that Kelsey hasn't been doing a good job keeping the records straight and truthful. Now. Leave me alone and don't bother me again or I will discharge Mark personally and you can have a fun time trying to find a hospital that will take him with the medical records he's got.”
Dylan paled. “You can't discharge him! He's s-so sick and unstable!”
“Then do not bother me with such trifles. Have a good day Mr. Robertson. Do not call again.” With that, Lillian hung up and hastily dialed her friend's number. Sparing no time for a greeting, she plunged straight into an order she had carefully planned out. “Carmen, I want you at the hospital tomorrow morning. Don't be late.”
Carmen listened closely as the slightly muffled voice reached her through her phone's speaker. “What about Kelsey?” she asked in a clear tone of voice as her light brown ponytail bobbed slightly as she talked.
“Hey!” Lillian grinned, on the verge of being an evil little smirk. “She's leaving. Don't you worry your pretty little head about her. She won't be any trouble. No trouble at all.”
A slightly worried look crossed Carmen's freckled face, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “Yes ma'am Ms. Lillian,” she agreed as she pressed the End Call button on her phone.
Dylan made his way back to Mark's room and sat down exhaustedly on the stout wooden chair. His hands were shaking as he watched Mark's heart rate on the screen with almost a psychotic look. Frank stiffened, sensing something was wrong. “What just happened?” he asked nervously. “I've been in here the whole time.”
“Kelsey got fired. Charlotte sued the hospital and now she's fired.” Dylan jumped at a slight dip in Mark's stats. “Oh no...maybe he's coding again!”
Frank could tell he was just a bundle of nervous energy. Barely managing to control his emotions, he gripped the sides of his chair tightly. “G-go take a walk or something. Maybe a nap. You need a break.” His voice was clipped with anger.
Shaking his head, Dylan sighed. “N-no. I can't sleep. I've got to stay with him and oversee his ultrasound. Myst told me he was in some pain earlier.”
“But you've got to rest or you'll be no good to anyone!” Frank protested.
“I promise I'll be fine. I'll take a nap later. I think I might know what the problem is with Mark but I'll make sure when Sandra brings in the ultrasound machine. She should be here any minute.”
“And where is my daughter?” Frank demanded to know.
“She's in the break room crying. You want to go talk to her?” Dylan asked.
“Of course but if I know Kelsey she won't listen. She's stubborn just like me. I'll wait till she calms down. I'm guessing you didn't get anywhere with her?”
“She's just really upset right now,” Dylan admitted. “She probably just needs some time. I feel so bad for her though,” he sighed. “This is her whole life right here.”
Frank wiped away a tear and tried for Mark's sake not to show how angry he really was. “I-I'll go talk to her in a bit,” he decided.
Sandra opened the door and rolled the ultrasound in behind her. “Alright let's get this over with,” she sighed, clearly dejected.
Dylan watched soberly as she gently removed the bandages and rubbed on the thick, cool gel before using the device to get a view of Mark's stomach. Dylan walked over and peered at the screen intently. “Yep, just as I though,” he mumbled as he looked at the picture displayed before him with bloodshot eyes.
“What now?” Frank asked worriedly, unsure of how much more bad news he could handle. “Is he any better at all?”
“It's definitely a little better than before,” Dylan nodded, “there's just still a lot of fluid. I'd recommend getting him on a machine to help that drain out a little and I'd really like to get him breathing on his own again.”
Sandra nearly pouted. “I was hoping we could take away some hardware. Not add to it,” she admitted sadly.
“I know,” Dylan agreed solemnly. “This is just going to add some pressure, help everything drain faster. He can't breathe on his own right now and this should help speed things up.”
Nodding, Sandra carefully wiped off the gel, turned off the ultrasound and packaged the machine up into it's original state again, with everything put away neatly. “Yeah, I guess it will be less work for him to breathe,” she answered distractedly.
“I'll go get it!” Dylan announced as he abruptly rushed out.
Catherine walked in after glancing in surprise at Dylan racing out. “He completely lost it last night,” she told Frank. “He was crying last night.” She planted herself into a corner and sipped at a cup of tea in her hand. “I-is my brother going to d-die?”
Frank seemed slightly startled. “W-we're making p-progress,” he stammered, nearly at a loss for words. “It c-can be really hard just sitting and waiting while your friend f-fights for his life.”
Nodding, Catherine seemed slightly disappointed in the answer. “I'm so sorry about my mother. She's very...set in her ways I guess you could say. All of us were treated pretty bad as kids though Stewart got the best end of the deal. I didn't mean for all this to happen.”
Frank seemed upset and didn't answer. Now slightly embarrassed and ashamed, Catherine hastily finished her tea and excused herself from the room. “I'll go make coffee for everyone,” she decided aloud as she left.
Hurrying down the hall, Dylan carried the machine to help Mark, his feet pounding on the hard floors. His overly tired mind insisted that he was on an urgent business and that he had to hurry. Before he knew what was happening, his knees buckled and he collapsed on the floor, his body shutting down from lack of sleep.
Kelsey had finally dared make an appearance outside of the break room and heard something crash. Racing to where she had heard the sound, she stopped short. “Dylan!” she exclaimed, kneeling beside him and searching for an injury.
Dylan sluggishly blinked his eyes open. “M-Mark. G-gotta get back to M-Mark. He's d-dying,” he murmured, hardly able to form coherent words.
Helping him into a sitting position, Kelsey shook her head. “Hey, hey, take it easy,” she urged. “He's fine at the moment. You're not.” She looked around anxiously, hoping to spot someone who could assist her.
Catherine spied the two from the corner and hurried over, holding two cups of piping hot coffee. “Oh my goodness! What happened?!” she gasped.
“He fell and he needs a nap,” Kelsey explained as she took a cup and handed it to Dylan. “Here. Drink this for the moment since you insist on being there with Mark for this.”
Dylan drank the whole thing in a few gulps and perked up visibly. “See? Told you I'd be fine. Just needed some caffeine. Let's get this machine back to Mark,” he urged rapidly.
“Fine. After that you're taking a nap. No exceptions,” Kelsey ordered firmly.
Clamoring to his feet, Dylan lugged the machine into Mark's room and connected it to the drain, setting the pressure on low. “There. That should help."
Kelsey sighed. “Yeah. Now. Bedtime for you. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. My replacement will be arriving and I have to pack. Goodnight.”
Chapter 9: Hail and Farewell
Carmen stared out of the window of the plane early the next morning, eagerly awaiting a first glimpse of the hospital she would be working at. She spotted it in the distance and her excitement rose higher. She was a petite thing, strong for her size and with a temperament to match. Her hair was light blondish brown with a slight hint of red that she always claimed gave her such a stubborn streak.
Clutching her bags tightly, she made her way off the plane a few minutes later, breathing the crisp air of the tiny town called Silver Springs. As the hospital was only a few minutes walk away from the airport, she decided to make the trek and found it enjoyable indeed. She reached the hospital shortly thereafter and was met by Lillian at the front desk and received a rare smile from the short-tempered woman that owned the hospital. Carmen's excited exuberance from earlier eased into a colder, more professional one as she gave her friend a stiff hug. “Hello Carmen!” Lillian greeted. “Glad to see me again?”
“Yes ma'am,” Carmen returned with a smile that anyone but Lillian could tell was fake. “I'm ready to start work with my new employees. Is there anything I should know before you leave? Critical patients, loads of paperwork in the office?”
Lillian laughed and it sounded harsh. “You don't have to call me ma'am you know. We're good friends remember? I just need you to whip everyone into shape. Things around here have gotten too laid back. The workers need to be whipped into shape if you know what I mean. Show them who's boss. You're in charge while I'm away you know,” she added with emphasis.
Barbara walked in just then, with Garrett clinging to her hand. She looked around, seeking any sign of Kelsey Dylan or Sandra. Lillian greeted her with a cold smile. “Good morning Miss Lillian,” Barbara greeted her stiffly as she hurried in the direction of Mark's room. “I believe I have a patient to visit.”
Swiftly stepping in front of her, Lillian blocked Barbara from entering the hall. “Excuse me Miss but I believe visiting hours don't begin for another two hours.”
Barbara's stomach dropped nervously. “Oh well, we're family,” she lied without batting an eye. “Garrett here is quite eager to show Mark something this morning.”
“Yeah! I made him a model airplane!” Garrett held up the prized toy eagerly.
Lillian sighed, shook her head and then shrugged. “Well...you've been through so much with Kelsey already I guess it won't hurt this once. Next time though don't come so early.”
“Thank you. You're too kind,” Barbara replied with fake cheerfulness. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Brushing past Lillian, she hurried down the hall, Garrett hot on her heels.
When she had all but disappeared, Carmen pulled her boss aside. “Why exactly did you fire Kelsey? All I've ever heard about her is that she's a very nice girl. And, that lady that just came in really didn't seem to like you very much,” she admitted, her face curious and slightly worried.
Lillian sighed. “The hospital was sued and Kelsey was in charge so the blame fell on her.”
“Oh. Well anyway, I'm sure you are very busy and have stuff to do. I can take it from here.”
“Thank you. I may be back later but I'm headed to Europe shortly so if I'm not don't bother calling. Take care and tell Kelsey I wish her luck finding a new job.” Lillian hurried out of the hospital.
Barbara marched into Mark's room breathing heavily with anger. “I do believe that Miss Lillian is the most incompetent woman ever to run a hospital!” she fumed.
“Yeah, Frank grumbled, having looked up from a book he was reading. “He fired Kelsey!”
“Oh well I just met the little brat that's going to replace her. Kelsey could work circles around her!” Barbara snapped.
Frank snorted. “Yeah well she's just lucky I'm confined to this stupid wheelchair.”
Kelsey walked in just then, pale faced and cheeks showing evidence of recent tears with Carmen close behind. The new manager planted herself in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame with a smug smile on her face. “What was that?” she asked.
Barbara turned abruptly and, keeping her wall of pride, smoothed down her skirt. “Nothing. Good morning Kelsey,” she greeted.
Mark twitched and jerked his head a bit, seeming to sense a new presence despite being comatose. The room filled as Carmen reluctantly made way for Dylan and Catherine. Dylan glared at her. “I am Dylan Robertson. Mark's doctor,” he announced coldly.
“And I'm his sister,” Catherine introduced herself as she made her way over to Mark. “Shh it's ok little brother,” she soothed as she rubbed his hand. Mark writhed slightly on the bed, clearly low on painkillers and fever reducer again.
Catherine moved aside for Sandra, clearly shocked at the number of people milling around Mark's room. Catching her arm she halted the doctor's progress. “I would like to see his medical records now. I need to know as much about him as possible so I can treat him accordingly. And Frank, you know I'm not as bad as you're making me look right now,” she added with a twinge of haughtiness.
Sandra nodded curtly. “Dylan, here are Mark's meds. Give these to him. Come along Carmen,” she led the way out of the room.
Frank glared after her. “You could never ever replace my daughter,” he huffed.
Carmen spun around, catching Frank's last remark. “I'm not trying to,” she admitted with a fake cheerfulness. “I'm trying to help Lillian run this hospital,” she paused for added effect as a look of triumph spread over her face. “Without getting sued.” Without waiting for a reply she hastened after Sandra.
Clenching his fists, Frank sent a dirty look after her. “It wasn't her fault,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“Easy Frank,” Dylan tried to calm his upset friend. “We know what fighting does in this environment and I know you don't want a repeat of what happened last time.” He sat in his chair after administering Mark's medication and dipped a clean cloth into a basin of water. Wringing it out, he gently mopped the sweat off of Mark's feverish face.
Kelsey sighed, reluctant to leave. “Dylan, I'll do that,” she offered. “You still look tired. Go take a nap or something.”
“I'm alright. Frank, if you can take over this I'll go help Kelsey pack.”
“Alright,” Frank agreed as he rolled his chair closer to the bed. Dylan and Kelsey took their leave and walked side by side down the hallway only to be met by Carmen who was just coming out of the office with Sandra who looked quite upset.”
“Hey you two!” Carmen called in a sing-song voice. “Over here please.”
Dylan moved closer to Kelsey and talked in a low voice. “Just tell her you have to go pack. I'll handle this.”
The two made their way over to Carmen and Sandra. “I have to pack,” Kelsey announced shortly. “I'll see you later.” She hurried away before Carmen could stop her.
Dylan leaned against the wall, arms crossed across his chest. “What's up?” he asked casually, though he felt the complete opposite.
Carmen glanced at the thick stack of records in her hands. “Lillian was right. These are a mess,” she mumbled half to her self. Looking up at Dylan she straightened. “So you're his doctor? What made you think making him fly when he was clearly not ready was a good idea?” she placed her empty hand on her hip and though her voice was calm, it was not at all pleased.
“I didn't. He did that on his own accord,” Dylan answered coolly.
Huffing slightly at the coolness of his reply, Carmen hardly paused to let him finish. “So that's it? He just walked out of the hospital by himself to get medicine for your hospital?”
Sandra stepped forward, her face pale. “A-actually that was m-my fault,” she stammered, obviously embarrassed. “I-I asked him to fly. We needed the painkillers for Kelsey.”
“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “Kelsey had gotten into a car accident and one of our other docs was in critical condition. We had our hands full,” he explained, receiving a nervous but grateful smile from Sandra.
“You made him fly that far for painkillers?! Don't bother answering. Listen to this.” Carmen's head bent over the paper again. “...crashed a plane, out in the middle of nowhere, outside of the USA,” Carmen went on, scanning over another section of the records. “Cauterized a wound with a knife sterilized with primitive means of sterilization, rescued by natives...and the list goes on and on.”
“You cannot count for what happened as far as the plane crash goes. That was an emergency situation that required us to do what we could to save his life. And we didn't make him. You don't understand!”
Sandra's eyes were flashing dangerously. “W-we have been around Mark for several months. You have just met him. Please...please get off your high horse and realize that you have no clue what we have been through and you can't just waltz in here like you know everything about everyone.” She knew she was treading on thin ice but Sandra was too upset to care.
“I may not understand Mark per say but I'm a doctor and I do understand that he should not have been flying anywhere in that condition. Anywhere. Much less outside of the United States. I'll give you credit for resourcefulness but it never would have happened if he hadn't left the hospital,” Carmen shot back, agitated.
“Well what's done is done. I'd like to get back to treating him now,” Dylan replied, his hands shaking behind his back.
“I'm not finished with you, mister,” Carmen snapped. “You could very well be fired right now and I've half a mind to do so. Lillian told me you were favoring patients.”
“I am not favoring patients!” Dylan exclaimed, getting very upset. “Mark is in critical condition and requires skilled hands to take care of him!”
Carmen smiled slyly. “I happened to know that Kelsey asked you to help out around here. Nearly all these records have one of the girls as a patient's doctor, not you.”
“Mark is different,” Dylan retorted angrily. “And now that Kelsey has been fired, Sandra will need help with him.”
The smile turned smug. “Exactly. You just proved my point. Mark is different only because he is your friend. Don't play games with me Dylan.”
Dylan was beginning to feel trapped. “No. Mark is different because he has PTSD. He has to have someone close and familiar with him at all times or he panics.”
Carmen sighed impatiently. “I thought Frank was his friend. He is retired right? I would think you of all people would know that that is what you told me yourself that he needs. No more, no less. He's been doing a good job looking after Mark anyway.”
“But I'm his doctor!” Dylan yelled, nearly losing his composure. Sandra placed a hand on his arm, trying to calm him.
“Listen up!” Carmen snapped. “Starting tomorrow, all protocols will be enforced and visiting hours and everything else you've been shirking your duty on will be enforced as well. This hospital will be run the way it was before Kelsey even stepped foot into it, the way...oh what was his name...Juhotta I believe...ran it.”
“What did you just say!?” Sandra gulped, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor.
Dylan's exhausted mind couldn't even comprehend. “No! You can't separate us! Mark won't make it!” he bellowed.
Carmen looked at Sandra. “I said Juhotta.” Turning back to Dylan, she looked at him as a cougar would it's prey. “Dylan you need to step back. No more working with Mark, at least not now. You need some distance and you also need a lesson about not favoring patients. I'll make sure Frank takes good care of him.”
Yelling in frustration mingled with desperation, Dylan took off down the hall like a raging bull. Sandra looked at Carmen, tears swimming in her eyes. Her whole body was trembling. Carmen made a shooing motion with her hand. “You may go now. Thanks for your time,” she announced sarcastically.
Mark heard Dylan's yell from down the hall and he strained against the restraints and sucked in a small breath which ended in a small groan as his heart rate sped up. Having finished packing, Kelsey had been talking quietly with her dad and was in the room. She jumped up. “Hang on Mark, I'll go see what's wrong.” She raced out the door and saw Dylan disappearing around the corner.
With a burst of speed she caught up to him. “Dylan whatever is the matter?!”
“I-I'm n-no longer Mark's doctor! She w-won't let me and she's enforcing visiting hours w-which ends in an hour. I-I can't be taken away from him!” Dylan was shaking and looked like he could collapse at any moment.
Kelsey stared hard at the floor. “I-I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “Guess we're both being g-grounded, huh? I-I'm packed. I probably n-need to head out.” There were tears in her eyes.
Dylan put his own worries aside for the moment as he saw how distressed Kelsey was. “H-here I'll help you take your boxes out to the car,” he offered. “Y-you'll still come and visit won't you?”
Walking into the office, Kelsey watched as Dylan picked up her possessions like they weighed nothing and they began their trek to the car. “O-of course I-I'll come. As often as I can,” Kelsey promised, her tone low as she did not trust her voice. A few minutes later, everything was neatly packed in the trunk. Kelsey closed it, and the metal shut with a final “Thwunk” sound. “I-I'll go say g-goodbye to Mark and Sandra...and everyone.”
“I'll wait here,” Dylan sighed. “I'm not allowed in there anymore, remember?” he asked bitterly.
Meanwhile, Mark's situation had deteriorated since Kelsey had dashed out of the room. Mark's lip's closed around the tube and the heart monitor was beeping faster and faster as he squirmed on the bed. Sweat was pouring down his face. Frank leaned closer and lay the damp cloth on his friend's head. “Mark? Mark it's ok. She'll be back soon,” he promised soothingly.
Mark's struggling only became more violent. He gagged as he tried to cry out and the machines were starting to protest in warning. Sandra raced in. “Mark! Here it's ok buddy. I've got some more painkiller and sedative. Just hang on a minute and it will kick in. You're going to be ok. Easy. Just try to relax,” she urged.
Lashing out in a feverish burst of violence, Mark managed to knock the sedative out of Sandra's hand. His eyes were open and wild in a dangerous mix of fear and anger. He clearly didn't know where he was. Sandra jumped back. “M-Mark it's ok!” she reminded slightly nervously.
Gagging again as he tried to scream, Mark twisted his head and tried to yank the breathing tube out. He didn't succeed that goal but did manage to dislodge his feeding tube. Blood started to drip from torn stitches onto the starch white linens. Carmen abruptly opened the door and her eyes grew wide as she took in the situation. “Tighten his restraints!” she ordered as she spotted the shattered vial on the floor.
Sandra turned on Carmen with a ferocious look. “Dylan is coming back RIGHT now! Look at what you are doing!” she pointed to Mark who had only grown more violent since she had entered the room. She thrust a roll of gauze into Carmen's hands and added another dose of sedative to Mark's IV. “Stop the bleeding now!”
“I did say the protocols start tomorrow...” Carmen replied coolly.
Racing out of the room, Sandra nearly collided with Kelsey. “Get Dylan in here now!” she hollered. Kelsey spun around and raced to the front door, yelling for Dylan who instantly came running. Together they raced towards Mark's room.
Back in Mark's room, things were getting progressively worse. Mark jerked and writhed, tossing droplets of blood all over the bed. The drain was being yanked on, coming dangerously close to being pulled out. Carmen stood over Mark and looked down severely at him. “Mark! You must calm down. You are hurting yourself and that is not good. Lay still.” her voice was very firm.
There was terror in Mark's eyes as he looked into Carmen's solemn face and he gripped her wrist with crushing force. At that moment, Dylan and Kelsey returned. Dylan's gaze immediately snapped to the blood and his stomach dropped. “What on earth is going on!” he demanded.
Carmen's face paled as the grip on her wrist tightened. “Get away from me you crazy little...” she stopped just in time. “Look! We just want to help!”
“Back away from him!” Dylan ordered in a growl. He walked over to Mark's side. “Hey Mark, look at me buddy. I'm here. Just relax.” Mark's grasp around Carmen loosened slightly as the sedatives began to run their course. She jerked free and backed up. “Yeah, there we go,” Dylan encouraged softly. “Just got scared, huh? That's ok. You're alright now.”
Frank glared at Carmen. “Why don't you just go back to where you came from!” he snapped. “You just make everything worse. Everything!”
Carmen rubbed her wrist. “He is dangerous! You hush Frank or I'm kicking you out.”
Silenced by the threat, Frank readily obeyed. Sandra approached Dylan. “His stitches are torn and he nearly yanked out the abdominal drain. His feeding tube fell to the floor,” she reported grimly.
Dylan nodded and tried to stay calm for Mark's sake. The pilot's eyes slipped closed. “Alright. I need you to go ahead and replace the feeding tube. I'll resew these stitches. I think it would be best if only familiar hands touched him for now.” He turned savagely on Carmen. “I think I'd be pretty scared too if I woke up disoriented, strapped down, trapped by wires and tubes and not being able to see anyone you know is safe. Wouldn't you?”
“Enjoy him while you can,” Carmen replied simply as she tossed him the unused roll of gauze and walked out of the room.
Dylan glared at Carmen behind her back before injecting Mark with a local anesthetic and carefully repairing the torn stitches. When he was finished, he glanced at his watch and sighed. “Visiting hours are almost up. Sandra, think you can perscribe something to help me sleep?”
Sandra nodded, left the room and was back soon after with a pill and a glass of water which Dylan promptly downed. Kelsey smiled sadly as she stood up. “I'd best be going now.”
Catherine walked over to her and put her arm around the doctor. “G-goodbye Kelsey. Thank you for all you've done for my brother. I'm so sorry things had to end this way. But hey, don't be such a stranger. Come visit every day...and when Mark get's better we'll all have lunch together. I-I'm so sorry about what happened,” she apologized, tears brimming in her eyes.
Kelsey gave her a hug, on the verge of crying herself. Summoning all her courage, she managed to keep the sobs back and keep her composure. “I-I'll do my best,” she promised, her voice unsteady. “D-Dylan, it's been a pleasure w-working with you. You've taught me so much and have been such a great help around h-here.” her voice trembled, then went silent as she broke down completely.
Dylan walked over and gently put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, it's ok. We'll see you around and keep you updated on everything,” he promised as he gave her a hug.
Nodding and afraid to trust her voice again, Kelsey gave the rest of the hospital staff and her dad a silent goodbye with many tears shed before racing out of the hospital without a backwards glance. She hurried to her car and shut the door. In the privacy of the vehicle with no one watching, she finally let herself cry aloud for many long moments, sobbing her heartache to the silence around her.
All the years she had faithfully worked there, tirelessly, always kind, always caring. Then in less then two days, her world had turned completely upside down. She was jobless, all her friends that had worked under her no longer around to laugh and tease, and she wasn't welcome in the hospital that had been under her care for so long. All these thoughts crowded into her mind as she continued to sob for nearly an hour before the tears no longer flowed and she was calm enough to make the short drive home where she threw herself onto the bed and worried herself to sleep.
Chapter 10:
Dylan began to nod, the sleeping pill dulling his senses and making him drowsy. The loss of Kelsey was like a dream, and he didn't fully realize the impact her absence would leave on the hospital. His foggy mind couldn't accept what had happened and he was too sleepy to care.
“Dylan!” Sandra's voice jerked him into the present. “You've got to get to bed before you fall asleep in your chair!”
“D-don't want M-Mark to freak out again,” Dylan slurred.
“But Dylan, he's under the effects of the sedative and besides, Frank is here with him,” Sandra pointed out, trying to block Kelsey's anguished face out of her mind and concentrate on her work. There would be time to cry later but as a doctor, she had a job to do and that meant putting her worries aside until she had a moment to herself and this was not it.
“S-she'll have to drag my unconscious body outta here,” Dylan growled, his head nodding again.
Despite her efforts to forget about what just happened to Kelsey, Sandra was too upset to think clearly. “I won't tell Carmen. You can hide under the bed.”
Dylan barely managed to settle his head on a pillow a few minutes later in Sandra's suggested location for him to sleep in the cramped quarters before he was out. Frank rolled his wheelchair closer to the bed as Mark's eyes fluttered open. “Hey buddy,” he Frank greeted with a half-smile.
Mark's fever glazed eyes drifted over to Frank and he forced a breath against the machine that was deeper than his previous attempts. He tried to move his hand but his efforts were deterred by the restraints. Mark looked at them, then back at Frank with a pleading look about his face.
Frank hesitated. “If I take them off you can't be moving around. Ok?” Mark managed a weak nod, already exhausted with the minor effort he had just put forth. Frank made short work of unbuckling the straps, freeing Mark's extremities. The pilot gave the elderly man the ghost of a smile and his eyes shut in slumber once more.
Carmen walked into the room with a professional air. “Oh good. Kelsey left. How's our patient this afternoon?” she asked briskly.
Frank glared coldly at Carmen. “You will talk nicely about my daughter,” he growled threateningly.
Dismissing his behavior with a dramatic wave of her hand, Carmen barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Oh yes. I nearly forgot. How is Mark?”
“He's fine, no thanks to you,” Frank snapped.
Carmen ignored his rudeness. “Good. I wouldn't want anymore 'accidents' now, would we?” she sneered before glancing around the room. “Where is that no good Dylan? I figured he'd be hiding in here. Oh well. If you see him, tell him to find me. I need to go over his new job schedule with him.” Without another word, she marched out of the room and continued with the rest of her rounds.
Mark opened his eyes and looked at Frank a long moment. Frank was breathing heavily, trying to control his anger. Mark slid his hand over to his friend trying to calm him. Frank managed a grim smile and sighed heavily. Lifting a finger, Mark pointed to the door and managed to roll his eyes.
“I know, she's a pain isn't she?” Frank mumbled. Mark's brows furrowed and he seemed to be concentrating very hard on something. “What is it Mark?” Frank asked curiously.
The only response Frank received from his friend was a short shake of Mark's head and his eyes slipping shut. Dylan crawled out from under the bed, rubbing his head as if he had hit it. “Sat up too quick,” he mumbled sleepily, confirming Frank's suspicions. “I've been having a lot of those one-sided conversations with him too.”
Frank sighed. “Yeah. He did take a breath on his own though. Hey, Carmen wants you ASAP. I won't say what she called you but you'd better hurry. Also, I think Sandra is looking for you too.”
“It never ends does it?” Dylan grumbled as he gave Mark's hand a pat and hurried out of the room and down the hall.
Carmen met him as he was passing the office and skid to a halt from the quick stride she had been taking. “There you are! We need to go over your new schedule.”
Sandra poked her head out from her office. “Yeah and Dylan after you're finished with Carmen I need you as well.”
Sighing inwardly, Dylan followed Carmen into her office, taking note that Kelsey's name had been removed from the nameplate beside the door. Carmen handed Dylan a sheet of paper and closed the door behind him. “You're going to be in charge of all the patients in the main ward and making sure they have everything they need such as taking blood pressure and giving out their prescribed medicine doses. You won't be working in the ER at all and therefore you won't have a need to be anywhere close to it.”
Dylan gulped. “Y-you'll keep me updated on Mark's progress a-and let Frank stay with him despite the visiting hours won't you?”
Carmen smiled slyly. “That depends on you. Your cooperation and your work ethic and you have to do a good job without complaining. I'm also not very fond of Frank at the moment but I'll let him stay for now.”
With an inward sigh and a look that was not at all pleasant discretely hidden by Dylan's back as he turned around, Dylan trudged towards the Main Wards to start his day. He was abruptly stopped by Sandra who nearly pulled him into her office. Quickly shutting the door, her face was a mixture of agitated excitement and apprehension.
“What's going on?” Dylan asked, slightly agitated at the recent turn of events.
“Didn't you hear what Lillian said yesterday?!” Sandra whispered loudly.
“What? That I'm not allowed anywhere Mark?” Dylan muttered.
“No! She said that Juhotta worked here!”
It took a minute for the words to register. “Juho...what?!” Dylan gasped, bristling.
“I know! This is either some crazy coincidence or something really bad,” Sandra replied, shuddering slightly.
Dylan looked at Sandra urgently. “We need to keep this under wraps for now. Not a word gets to Mark. Understand?”
“Of course.” Sandra glanced nervously around the room. “This is really creeping me out.”
“I think maybe we should do some investigating,” Dylan suggested. “Maybe we can get to the bottom of this and since my schedule is so painfully dull at the moment we should have plenty of time. As long as Carmen doesn't find out we won't get in trouble.”
Sandra hesitated a moment before agreeing. “Sounds good. You know I'll help you any way I can.”
“Yeah. Just please keep an eye on Mark and give me frequent updates on his situation. I'm not allowed anywhere near the ER and I doubt that bloody woman will give me any information on him,” Dylan huffed angrily.
“Hey you know me better than that,” Sandra reminded gently. “I'll tell you anything you want to know. Oh, by the way, Kelsey called early this morning. She sounded really upset. I feel so bad for her.”
“She probably didn't sleep. I for one slept fine with that prescription you gave me. Yeah, Kelsey's got a lot to worry about right now. Maybe she'll drop by in a bit.”
“Hopefully,” Sandra agreed with a tired smile. “You're lucky Carmen didn't see you under the bed.”
“Speaking of which...that woman said she was taking over. She had better be attending to Mark. I'm gonna text Frank and see what's going on.”
Meanwhile, Frank had been keeping a faithful eye on Mark. He noticed the pilot tense up and take a breath against the ventilator. The elderly character's chair scooted forward. “Mark? Mark it's alright buddy. Just take it easy. Don't want you to wear yourself out.” He stared in awe at the feeble attempts of his friend, hardly unable to believe the fight he was putting up despite his serious condition.
In spite of Frank's mild protesting against his efforts, Mark slowly lifted his arm and fumbled around his neck as if he was trying to find something. His hands shook terribly and his movements were jerky and seemed to radiate a desperateness, like he was trying to get a point across.
Frank pulled the dog tags out of his pocket. “Hey buddy they're right here. See? You wanted me to keep them for you.” he placed the cool metal into Mark's hand. Mark's eyes flickered open and rested on Frank before he gave the tiniest of nods and placing the dog tags back into Frank's hand and closing his fingers around them. Frank sighed as Mark's hand dropped limply back to the bed and his eyes slid shut once more.
His phone buzzed a minute later. Slipping the dog tags back into his pocket, he hurriedly reached for the device and read Dylan's message. “Has Carmen been by yet? Mark's medicines need to be swapped out and I want him to have another abdominal exam to see how that new drain is working,” it read.
“She hasn't but I'll get Sandra to ask her. He's asleep...I think. How are things on the other side of the hospital?” Frank replied promptly.
“Dull. I've got to assist a kid with a bead up his nose, help a lady who insists her birthmark is cancer and give about ten more children booster shots.” Dylan paused before hitting the send button and looked up at Sandra. “Frank wants you to make sure Carmen gives Mark his meds and does the abdominal exam. Also, could you give me the readings off the ventilator? I'd love to see them.”
Sandra nodded. “Will do. Maybe I'll do it for her. If I can get on her good side maybe she'll be more compliant.”
Dylan scanned Frank's latest text before replying to Sandra. “Careful,” he warned. “I don't know how she'll take to someone else doing her duty. We really don't even need anyone else fired.”
“Yes, you might be right. I'll ask her,” Sandra agreed.
Shoving his phone into his pocket, Dylan sighed. “Oh dear...almost forgot. Got a girl with a broken dancing foot that needs to be mended. I've gotta bounce. Meet me in the break room in a bit with the ventilator readings and the result of his exam.” With no further ado, he hurried off.
Sandra walked around the halls until she found Carmen who agreed to take a look at Mark. She followed Sandra who was tugging the ultrasound machine into the room. “Alright, let's do this,” Carmen announced as she walked into the room, plastering a smile onto her face. She quickly removed the bandages and smeared the thick gel onto Mark's stomach with skill, though not as much with gentleness. Her eyes turned to the screen as she used the device to see how Mark was progressing. “We're looking much better.”
Mark flinched mildly at Carmen's touch and his eyes opened, wild with fear. Carmen looked at him. “Oh hey Mark. Glad you're awake,” she greeted coolly.
Frank moved closer to his friend. “Easy pal, it's alright,” he soothed his upset friend. “I'm right here. Everything's ok. Carmen is not going to hurt you. I promise.” To his great relief, Mark simply nodded and drifted back to sleep
Sandra waited until Carmen wasn't looking and snapped a picture of the display on the ultrasound screen with her phone and brought the readings and it to Dylan who had made himself a cup of tea and was waiting for her in the break room. He looked up as she walked in and tossed the file onto the small table. He picked it up and eagerly began to scan over the report.
“Thanks Sandra, you're the best,” he told her with a small smile after he was satisfied he had seen enough. “Looks like he got four breaths in.” Sandra showed him the picture and Dylan nodded his approval. “He looks a lot better. That drain was the ticket. His heartbeat is still scaring me though,” he admitted.
Grinning slightly, Sandra put away her phone. “I'd help anyone who needed it. You've got to remember though, Mark hasn't been active in quite a while and he isn't very strong. Hey if you're finished reading those I'd better put them away before I get in trouble.”
“Yeah here you go,” Dylan replied as he offered the stack of papers back to Sandra. “Make sure you keep an eye on his heart rate. Sepsis affects blood and his blood pressure isn't hunky dory either. That can cause problems if we aren't careful,” he reminded.
Sandra nodded. “Of course. I'll make sure Carmen knows that.” She hurried out of the room and snuck the file back before heading on her rounds once more.
Chapter 11
Catherine knocked softly on the door before opening it. “Yoo-hoo,” she called softly, poking her head through the crack. “I come bearing gifts. Aww would you look at that,” she went on, gesturing to Mark who was sleeping peacefully on the bed. “He was always so cute sleeping as a baby.” Catherine set her rather large bag down beside a chair.
Frank smiled. “Have a seat,” he offered kindly.
“Thanks.” Catherine sat down and pulled the bag onto her lap. From the way she lifted it, Frank could tell that it was rather heavy. “I brought some books and my iPad. I downloaded all Mark's favorite movies and some I thought you might enjoy. Oh and there are plenty of games to keep you busy as well.”
“Movies will keep me busy...games not so much,” Frank chuckled softly. “I can't keep up with them anymore. Hey, aren't you leaving with Charlotte?” The elderly character could barely keep from grimacing as he said her name.
“Not a chance,” Charlotte answered with firm resolve. “Mum's gonna be furious with me anyway. Might as well put it off as long as I can. Besides, I could never leave him now.”
At that moment, Mark's heart monitor let out a horrifying screeching tone signaling a sudden drop of pace. Frank's face paled ashen white as he glanced desperately around for the call button which was nowhere to be found. “Catherine!” he yelled frantically. “Get someone! NOW!”
Catherine nearly fell out of her chair in her haste. She raced out the door calling loudly for help. “Someone! Get in here! Help!” she begged, eyes darting frantically around for a doctor.
Sandra nearly ran into her as she rounded the corner. “What's wrong!?” she gasped, already on her way to Mark's room.
Nearly panicking, Catherine gulped out an answer. “P-please!” she begged. “M-Mark's having seizures and something's wrong with his heart and he needs help! Get Carmen get someone!” she begged, terrified.
Sandra spotted Carmen in the hall way and nearly drug her along. “Come on! Mark's coding!” she ordered.
The trio dashed into the room as Carmen halted in the doorway, at a momentary loss as to what to do. “What's going on in here!?” she stammered.
“Can you not see something's wrong with him?!” Catherine shrieked, pointing to the bed on which Mark's body was jerking violently. “Oh I'm sorry, seizures and fluctuating heart rate are a normal thing,” she yelled sarcastically, panic-stricken.
Carmen hesitated visibly. “H-he was fine just a minute ago! G-get a sedative and put him back in those restraints!” she ordered with a twinge of lacking confidence.
“Do you not know what you're doing!?” Sandra screeched as she returned with the sedative and a muscle relaxant. Mark's monitors blared nosily, mapping out his declining stats.
“Get Dylan in here! Please!” Catherine sobbed, feeling completely helpless. Not waiting for a response, she dashed out of the room and headed to find Dylan. Luckily he passed her in the hall by the ER exit and she called out to him. “D-Dylan! Go to Mark's room now!” she begged him earnestly, her whole body trembling with fright.
Dylan felt worry settle in the pit of his stomach. “Why!? What's wrong?!” he demanded.
“There's n-no time to explain. Come on please!” Catherine returned, racing back towards the deathly ill pilot's room.
As Dylan entered the panic-charged room, the first thing he noticed, even before his eyes rested on Mark was Carmen, standing in the corner just watching the events play out before her. Too angry to do anything to her, Dylan turned on Sandra. “Grab the defibrillators, adrenaline and a blood thinner now!” he yelled, immediately taking charge of the situation.
Sandra raced next door and grabbed the items, tossing the two syringes to Dylan and turning on the defibrillator. “Shock him!” Dylan ordered.
The high pitched whine of the charging paddles could be heard above Sandra's call of “Clear!” she pressed the device to his chest and delivered the shock to his body. Mark's form convulsed violently and he lay flat again with no change to his stats. Sandra shook her head. “Clear!” she called again and jolted Mark with a second shock.
To everyone's great relief Mark's jerking eased off as his heart settled into a regular rhythm. “Give him the blood thinner,” Dylan urged as he injected the adrenaline into Mark's chest.
Sandra instantly followed the instructions and skillfully injected the medicine into Mark's iv. “Come on buddy,” she whispered to the unconscious pilot, trying to encourage him as best she could. “Come on Mark. You've got to fight.”
“It's up to him now,” Dylan mumbled, his heart racing from the recent fright. “He's either going to pull out of this or he's not. His blood pressure needs to be monitored every thirty minutes and a coding station must be outside his door in case we need it again.” Dylan turned to Carmen who was still frozen with fear, her hands shaking and her eyes terrified. “I trust you have everything under control?” Dylan mocked, too upset to catch the tone he was speaking to her in.
Carmen hesitated. “M-maybe you should go back to being his doctor,” she finally told him, completely embarrassed. “Y-you seem to know his condition quite well,” she admitted, a reddish tinge creeping up her face. Before her pride completely shattered, she made a hasty retreat out of the room.
Dylan could hardly keep his words to a pitch she couldn't hear. “Thank you ma'am,” he muttered angrily. “It's about time. You bloody helpless no good doc.” The victory of the moment soon overpowered his earlier feelings towards Carmen and he found he could hardly keep from grinning. Bending down to Mark, he whispered in the pilot's ear. “I know we're friends and all and you owe me a favor but you didn't almost have to die again to do that,” he whispered good-naturedly.
“Wow, looks like you hit the jackpot Dylan,” Frank smiled happily at his beaming friend.
“I'd hardly call this a jackpot,” Dylan returned as he placed his fingers on Mark's wrist to check his pulse yet again.
The happy mood seemed to dissipate a bit. “Well at least you get to work with him again,” Frank sighed.
“Yeah maybe just in time to watch him die,” Dylan mumbled.
“Dylan please. Try not to think like that,” Frank earnestly pleaded, cringing at the words. “W-we've got to think positive. Not negative like that.”
“Yeah. I think he tried to do too much too soon. I'd say keep him sedated but from the looks of things, he's doing a pretty good job of that on his own.”
The room plunged into near silence. Frank and Dylan were content with their own thoughts. Finally, Frank cleared his throat slightly and sat up straighter. “Well...if you don't have anything else to do you can sit here with me. Mark is good company but it gets a little lonely with no one to answer you back I'm afraid. Also, Kelsey said she'd drop by for a visit later.”
Dylan nodded as he sat down next to Catherine who had settled since the incident. He offered her a tiny smile. “I wonder if Mark would laugh at us for worrying about him so much,” he mused.
Frank cracked a tiny grin. “With Mark you never know. He is absolutely hands down the most interesting person I have ever met.”
Juhotta sauntered into his dimly lit office and settled himself into the creaky chair. The room was a mess with scattered papers and litter, a perfect haven for a mouse that was timidly watching the evil man's antics before scurrying into a hole into a corner. Juhotta seemed not to notice the junk strewn around his office as he brushed off an offending pile of paper and swung his legs to the top of the desk where he could prop them up.
Pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket he proceeded to light it and place it in his mouth, completely oblivious to the noxious fumes that emerged from the burning concoction. The smoke added to the darkness of the room. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Juhotta plucked the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a cloud of smoke before poking out a set of numbers and waiting for the person on the other end to pick up.
“Hello?” A voice clearly belonging to a girl answered.
“Ahh Ms. Lillian,” Juhotta grinned slyly taking another puff of his cigarette. “Is our plan working?” he asked casually, though to Lillian his voice hinted danger.
“You don't remember?” Juhotta mocked. “Let me remind you then. Getting Mark and Kelsey out of our hair with your little puppet. Does that ring a bell?” Juhotta leaned forward and tugged a piece of paper with Mark's paper from under a book. He scanned it, his eyes glittering with evil from the dusty lamp emitting a dull yellow light from the desktop.
Lillian laughed, slightly nervous and slightly out of spite as the name Mark caught her quick ears. “Oh yes of course. How are things where you are?” she ventured to ask.
“Everything is going as planned,” Juhotta replied. “Now just do what you need to do to find out where that chip is. When the moment's right we'll strike. My brother is dead because he underestimated the little pilot. I will not make the same mistake. Watch your back. Do not blow our cover. Got it?” He made no attempt to curb the words dripping with warning.
“I understand perfectly,” Lillian assured him. “I'm back in England trying to follow up another lead, again. You'd better pay well for this. Things could get risky.”
“Don't you worry your pretty little head. Just get me the information I need and we'll make you rich,” Juhotta sneered.
Lillian laughed sarcastically. “Juhotta you flatter me. Really though, it takes a lot of work to...” her voice lowered, “...to hack a system. You are most impatient.”
“Just do you job,” Juhotta remarked as he hung up the phone. Lillian shook her head wearily and slipped the phone back into her pocket.
Dylan Frank and Catherine all looked up as Kelsey walked into Mark's room. Standing up, Dylan approached her with a tired smile. “Hey Kelsey, how are you?” he asked, looking searchingly into her dark, expressive eyes.
Kelsey sighed. “Honestly I'm a mess. Can't sleep, can't eat and all I can do is think. Hey...why are you in here? I thought you were banished from being around Mark.”
“I hear you,” Dylan told her kindly. “Well you missed all the action here. Mark decided he didn't like Carmen being his doctor and coded again. Nothing scares you more to within an inch of your life like watching your friend's heart fluctuating so dramatically and seeing him racked with seizures. Carmen panicked and ended up letting me be his doc again.”
“He's ok now though, right?” Kelsey asked anxiously, her body stiffening in anger and worry. “Oh I hate not being welcome here! It's so frustrating. After so many years I'm kicked out just like that!”
“Mark is holding out on his own for now,” Dylan assured her. “And I know. It's weird not having you here.” he paused a moment, trying to sort out his words. “Kelsey, what do you know of the hospital before you came?” he asked.
Kelsey looked puzzled. “That's a rather odd question. Why do you need to know?”
“Lillian just happened to mention Juhotta,” Dylan told her, watching anxiously for her reaction.
“What?!” Kelsey gasped, jumping out of her chair. Frank's hand steadied her though he too seemed utterly shocked with disbelief.
“Yeah. She said he worked here before you took over. Something really fishy is going on and I'm led to believe Mark has something to do with it. I'm going to dig up all the information I can and I'd like you to find out everything possible about Lillian and the hospital. Maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”
Kelsey nodded and pulled out her computer which she had conveniently brought along with her. “I can do that now,” she agreed.
Dylan left the room and was back within three minutes with Mark's laptop. He sat down in his chair and turned the device on. “I'm going to email Mark's former commander and see what information he has to offer.”
“What was his name?” Kelsey asked curiously.
“Captain Mike Watkins,” Dylan answered distractedly as he typed on the keyboard.
Slightly coming out of his former unconscious state, Mark took a tiny breath against the machine. Kelsey smiled. “Hey Mark,” she greeted him softly. Sadly he didn't respond to her voice other than to take one more slight breath on his own and settled back to the state he had been in before. Kelsey sighed. “Has he improved any at all?” she asked hopefully.
“Well, this little...episode...kinda set him back a bit,” Catherine admitted as she walked back into the room from where she had been making cups of tea for all. She handed Kelsey one.
Kelsey smiled gratefully at Catherine before glancing at Mark and heaving a sigh. “Yeah I had a feeling that would be the case. Hey this tea is amazing by the way.”
Carmen stepped into the room, her eyes instantly resting on Kelsey. “I thought I heard your voice,” she muttered just loud enough for her to hear. “What are you doing back?! Get out! Shoo! Get outta here now!” she ordered.
“Oh come on!” Catherine begged, standing up. “She's practically Mark's best friend. She isn't hurting anything!”
“I really don't care,” Carmen glared at the the protester. “I don't care if they're friends or not. Mark is in critical condition and she's not a doctor here anymore. This is MY hospital and she will follow MY rules. Now Kelsey get out of here this instant.” With a sobbing cry, Kelsey fled the room and disappeared.
Chapter 11
Lillian glanced around her, outwardly calm but inwardly nervous. She was standing in a dark side street against a rustic old brick building that was slightly blocking the cold dreary drizzle that was splashing the land around her. Shivering slightly, Lillian pulled out her phone and dialed Juhotta's phone. His answer was not long in coming.
“Hello?” his nasal sounding voice ground into her ears.
“Hey this is Lillian. I think I found something but I can't say it over the phone. I'm in the town near your place so if you could meet up with me that would be great,” Lillian announced, plunging straight to the point.
“Well it's lucky you called when you did. I'm in that little cafe. The only cafe in this town. Meet me there.” Without another word, he hung up.
Lillian pulled the black hood over her head and bowed her head in reverence to the downpour, slightly grateful for the miserable weather to keep her more inconspicuous to the outside world around her. She made her way over to the directed building, a small, quaint place that was as cheery as could be. It seemed to be mocking the dark clouds. Jerking the glass door open, a blast of warm air hit her, smelling of coffee and baked goods. Lillian's stomach nearly growled.
Juhotta wasn't altogether hard to spot to Lillian's trained eyes. He was in the furthest corner from the door, sipping a coffee and seemingly nonchalant though his eyes were scanning the entire room warily. Lillian made her way over to him and smiled, not betraying her dark and devious message she carried in her head. A waitress asked her what she wanted to order and Lillian made hasty work of declining her offer of a sale on donuts.
“Nice to see you again,” she finally greeted Juhotta.
“Cut the pleasantries. What have you got? Let me see.” Juhotta ordered, glancing around without moving his head. Beneath his dark jacket he was tense.
Lillian sighed. “You really think I would be that dumb? Of course I didn't take a picture. You and I have been in this business far to long to make such a novice mistake.”
“Then you will also remember I am not one to be trifled with,” Juhotta retorted.
“You are a hard person to work with,” Lillian admitted. “I have found out where the chip is.” she paused, waiting with bated breath for her partner's reaction.
She could hardly have been more satisfied. Juhotta's entire demeanor changed. He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes filled with greed. “Where? Where is it?!” he asked eagerly.
Lillian smiled smugly, knowing she currently held the upper hand in the discussion. “Now wait. You've got to promise something first,” she told him cunningly.
“Name your price...unless it's to kill that miserable little captain. I have already reserved that,” Juhotta snapped at the memory of Mark.
“Oh no, nothing of the sort though I would like to see him die. I'm just tired of you bossing me around. We've been working together for many years and I feel I deserve a little more respect. I've proven myself haven't I?”
“The Black Ring, Miss Lillian, is what made you. Don't forget it. Now, other than that is there anything else you were wanting? I want the whereabouts of my microchip,” Juhotta reminded impatiently.
Lillian's eyebrow rose in surprise. “Yours? I thought it was ours. Don't tell me you're changing the deal.”
“I wouldn't dream of it. Now tell me where it is. I'll give you fifty thousand more than we agreed on,” Juhotta bribed.
“A hundred,” Lillian countered with a smug smile.
“Fine. Deal. Where is it?”
“Well...after some major digging...or shall I say hacking, I finally found out where the object we have been looking for so many years was right under our noses the whole time. When we questioned those pilots, as you know, they wouldn't tell us anything. Turns out they put it in Mark's arm!”
“What?!” Juhotta snapped, pounding a fist on the table. Several customers glanced their way and he had to quickly calm down outwardly though his heart was racing. “I should have known! I think it's time to get back what's ours if I have to rip it out of him myself.”
Lillian grinned evilly. “Sounds delightful if I do say so myself. So...what's the plan?”
“You keep working your little puppet. Find some way to get access to Holbrook,” Juhotta directed, keeping his voice hushed. “I want to be able to get that chip out of him without anyone interfering.”
“Great. Am I dismissed?” Lillian asked, glancing around.
“Yes. Keep in contact,” Juhotta ordered as his companion stood up and casually left the cafe.
Mark flinched in his sleep, obviously having some kind of nightmare. He flailed weakly and unconsciously gripped at his arm. Frank glanced anxiously at him. “Mark are you alright?” he asked, peering at the pilot's wrist. “I don't see anything wrong with it...” he mused.
Catherine's eyes opened as she awoke from her nap. Her eyes immediately darted to Mark's tensed up form. “Shh Mark, it's alright,” she soothed as she smoothed back his rumpled hair. “Frank do you think he needs some more painkillers and a blood pressure check?”
“Yeah,” Frank mumbled as he pressed the call button.
Sandra was prompt in her response and walked into the room less than two minutes later. “Anything wrong?” she asked, her eyes scanning Mark's body. “I guess it's time for more meds.” Quickly she injected another dose of painkillers into the IV and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Mark's left arm.
“How's he doing?” Catherine asked anxiously, twiddling her fingers nervously.
Sandra sighed. “Not much better but no worse,” she admitted.
“Well I guess it's better than coding or seizures,” Catherine replied, trying to keep hope. “Oh Mark I wish you would just open your eyes. Frank can't you talk him out of this?” Catherine pleaded.
“Catherine, I have been talking to him for days,” Frank mumbled. “But of course I will continue to do so.” He scooted his wheelchair closer to Mark's side and placed his hand on Mark's. “Mark?” he called softly. “Hey buddy can you open your eyes for me a minute? Just a minute. That's all I'm asking.”
In response, Mark took a slight breath against the machine. “I think he heard you,” Catherine announced, her voice slightly more excited. “That's it Mark. Just breathe. You can do that,” she encouraged as the pilot managed another one. Mark's head turned slightly in Frank's direction, his eyelids fluttering as if they were about to open. “Mark? Did you hear him? Keep talking to him Frank. Come on Mark. I want to see those baby blues of yours. Open you eyes buddy,” she encouraged.
Frank nudged Mark ever so gently. “That's right Mark. Come on pal, I know you can do it. Please? It's been so long...” his voice trailed off, becoming slightly unsteady at the end of his sentence. It seemed to take a massive amount of effort but Mark's eyes slowly opened. Catherine gasped.
“Oh my...” Frank's eyes filled with happy tears. “Thank you Mark,” he whispered, giving the pilot's hand a fond squeeze. “Now I'm going to ask you one question ok? Are you feeling any better? Blink once for yes and twice for no.” He gazed eagerly into his friend's face.
Mark continued to stare blankly at Frank for what seemed like an eternity as his words tried to break through the strong haze of drugs. Finally he blinked once. Frank's smile could not be dimmed. “Great work Mark!” he praised gently. “You get some rest now. We can try again a bit.”
Slowly, Mark's deep blue eyes slipped closed once more and his body relaxed, exhausted by the amount of effort. Catherine's expression as she looked at Frank was priceless. “Thank you Frank,” she told him softly. “I'm so proud of you Mark. You get some rest now,” she urged, her attention turning back to the pilot.
“You're his sister though,” Frank pointed out. “He should listen to you too. Maybe you could go tell Dylan. I'm sure he would want to know.”
“I will in a minute,” Catherine promised, hesitating. “I wouldn't blame Mark if he weren't very happy with me. I didn't stand up for him like I should have when Dad beat him and for years...I-I guess you could say I turned my back on him.”
Frank was silent for a moment. “I'm sure Mark would forgive you. That's what siblings do anyway, forgive and forget. Right? Where is Dylan anyway? I haven't seen him for a while.”
At that moment, the door opened abruptly. “I'm sorry, things were getting crazy,” Dylan huffed, trying to recover from what had to have been a run.
“Dylan!” Frank exclaimed excitedly. “I got Mark to open his eyes and answer a question by blinking! He said he's feeling better!”
“He hasn't been lucid since he crashed at the village!” Dylan remarked, his face alive with hope. “This is great news! I'm gonna check him over and see how he's doing. Sandra said his blood pressure was still ugly.” Dylan expertly checked Mark's heart and lungs before doing a quick abdominal exam and taking his temperature. “Heart is doing much better and the fever has defiantly lowered a little. Mark's stomach is looking better with that new drain. I think we might have turned a corner.”
“Don't jinx him Dylan,” Frank grinned. “He's not out of the woods yet. But maybe, just maybe he's on the mend.”
“I hope so. Oh...by the way, Catherine installed an app on the tablet. Since I'm not here all the time I'd like you to map out Mark's progress. How often he breathes on his own, when he wakes up and how lucid he is and things like that.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Frank agreed readily. “Not quite as exciting compared to what I used to do but still, it will keep me busy.”
“One more thing. I'd like you to dig up as much info as you can on Mark's past. I have been really busy lately and can't get as much work done as I'd like. You have plenty of time.”
Frank nodded. “Certainly. I will do that.”
“Thanks. You're the best. Hey...I've gotta bounce. I'll be back to check on you two later this afternoon. Take care Frank,” Dylan smiled as he walked out the door.
Picking up the tablet, Frank began his research. His eyes grew heavier and heavier before finally drifting shut as he fell asleep. Mark took a breath against the machine, moaning slightly. Frank subconsciously heard it, elevating his already unpleasant dream into another level. He began to thrash restlessly. “N-no...no...” he sobbed. “Please no!”
Mark took yet another breath, and his eyes opened, settling on Frank's tense form. He moved his hand to his friend's shirt and pulled weakly at his sleeve in an attempt to wake him up. Frank jolted awake. “Get away from me!” he yelled, momentarily disoriented. Recoiling, Mark yanked his arm back in surprise and looked at Frank with concern etched on his face. “M-Mark?” Frank mumbled, confused. “I-I thought you died!”
Hesitantly, Mark reached out and gripped Frank's sleeve before tapping his heart slowly with his hand and shaking his head. The effort sapped his strength and his hand fell back limply on the bed. Frank nodded, visibly shaken. “I-I'm sorry Mark,” he apologized. The pilot sighed and drifted back into unconsciousness again.
Picking the tablet off the floor where it had fallen during Frank's thrashing, he spent a good hour researching everything he could find about Mark and anything that seemed related to him. Suddenly he grabbed his phone and fired off a quick text to Dylan. “Come to Mark's room now!”
Dylan rushed in. “What's wrong?!” he asked nervously.
Frank turned the tablet screen so that Dylan could see. “Look at this!” he urged. “Here's a news article from when they were rescued. I'll skip the first part but look at this! 'Mark refused to talk about what happened and no information has been recovered on the details of the mission. Shortly after, Mark seemed to disappear from the face of the earth altogether as he could not be contacted in any way nor were reporters given any more information whatsoever.' What do you think is going on Dylan?” Frank asked curiously.
“I'm not sure but something's fishy,” Dylan mused. “Get a load of this. Mark's former commander contacted me and told me that was classified information and I'd end up behind bars if I continued snooping around. Only it wasn't worded so nicely.”
Mark roused himself and opened his eyes. Frank glanced over. “Hey buddy,” he greeted. “I'm sorry if I scared you earlier. The pilot rolled his eyes in response and his friend could see the trace of a smile around the breathing tube. “Mark I saw that,” Frank grinned. “You've got your spunk back. Now you'll get better for sure.”
Giving a weak nod, Mark took another breath before sighing and laying still once more. his body already exhausted. Frank turned to Dylan. “We've really made progress today. Here's the information you requested. What's our next step in our quest to find out what's going on?” he asked.
Dylan scanned the page. “Oh wow. You were right. His breathing attempts are getting stronger and more regular. This is really good. Um...I'm not sure about further attempts to research this issue. We may just have to wait until Mark can tell us himself.”
Frank sighed. “Yeah. It's just so hard to wait though...” his voice trailed off as he set the tablet on his lap. Mark jerked on the bed, and his attention snapped to his friend. To his astonishment, Mark sat up, yanking on the tubes and wires, panic in his eyes. The IV line was torn from his arm and dangled on the floor, dripping fluid. Mark's hands went to the breathing tube while he simultaneously tried to get out of bed.
Dylan grabbed the tablet and shut it off. “Mark! Mark it's ok!” he heard Frank tell him. “Calm down buddy! Whatever is wrong?!” Frank tried to lay a comforting hand on his friend. Mark jerked away and pulled his arm to his chest like he was trying to protect something, gagging as he tried to cough out the breathing tube. Frank looked desperate. “Dylan do something!” he begged. “I can't get out of this stupid chair! Mark? Mark it's ok! Nobody wants to hurt you!”
“SANDRA” Dylan bellowed as Mark gave up on the tube down his throat and made a move for the stomach drain. “Mark no! Sandra get in here with a sedative NOW!”
Sandra raced in less than thirty seconds later, a syringe in hand. She managed to inject it into Mark before he shoved her roughly into the wall and tried to stand. His knees wouldn't take his weight and he crumpled to the floor, all remaining tubes coming loose and dropping to the floor. Frank sat, staring wide-eyed at Mark, helpless to do anything. “Mark please! P-please buddy!” he cried. “C-calm down! P-please!”
“Ouch!” Sandra muttered as she shook off her nervousness and rubbed her shoulder. She watched Mark slip into unconsciousness.
“Sandra! Help me get him back on the ventilator now!” Dylan ordered as he gently but quickly placed Mark's limp body back on the bed and pressed a cloth to the bleeding gash, the stitches having been opened by Mark's rough movements.
Grabbing another breathing tube, Sandra tipped Mark's head back and expertly slid it down his throat and attached the tube to the ventilator. “Ok...got it!” she announced. “Do you want him back on the drain?” she eyed the mess of tubes and wires with a growing feeling of dread.
“Yes. He needed to be on it for another week at least. I-I don't think I've ever seem him that vicious before,” he admitted shakily, still keeping pressure on Mark's bleeding abdomen.
“I-I think it s-started when he saw the article on my screen,” Frank offered, his heart still racing.
Dylan was too busy to hear. “Sandra, the incision's already made so it should be a simple process of reinserting it and closing up the wound again with more stitches. Can you get the supplies?”
Sandra nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” She hurried out of the room and returned a moment later. “Alright, here goes,” she mumbled as she injected Mark with a local anesthetic before carefully replacing the drain and stitches. “There. Hopefully he won't panic like that again. That was scary,” she admitted.
“Yeah it's odd...” Dylan sighed as he studied a faint scar on Mark's arm.
Sandra peered over his shoulder. “What is that from?” she wondered aloud.
“Mark told me it was from his dad but I've been a doctor long enough to know that it's too precise to be an accident,” Dylan replied.
“Do you think it's connected to what we are trying to find out?” Frank asked.
Dylan shrugged. “Honestly I don't know. He has been messing with his arm a lot lately though,” he mused.
“Yeah I guess it's a long shot, but it may be worth looking into. I'm afraid we'll just get another negative reaction though,” Frank sighed.
“As much as I'd like to examine this while he's out, I'm afraid that wouldn't be right,” Dylan told Frank.
“I agree,” Frank readily spoke up. “It's really his business you know. We all just got dragged into it.”
“Well thankfully this didn't set his progress back too much. His vitals dropped a bit but not as badly as I was expecting.”
Frank nodded. “Yeah. Did you see him thrashing around like that? Just this morning he was exhausted even opening his eyes!”
“I expect he'll be out for hours. That was a lot of action for him,” Dylan replied as he settled more comfortably into his seat.
“I for one probably won't be getting back to sleep anytime soon,” Frank admitted. “I am so afraid of getting PTSD and I had a terrible time getting over it after we were captured. Mark doesn't know that side of the story.”
“Well let me know if you need anything. I can give you something to help you sleep,” Dylan offered.
“Thanks but I think I might just sit up a while and watch a movie or something. I'm too wound up anyway.”
“Alright, suit yourself. I've gotta get back or Carmen will kick me out again. Keep an eye on him.” Dylan stood up and stretched before heading for the door.
“Of course Dylan,” Frank promised. “I'd sit here the rest of my life and watch him if I had to. You know that.” Smiling gratefully, Dylan left the room.
Lillian hurried down a dark alley, glancing warily around. She didn't like being alone in a dangerous part of town even if she had a gun hanging by her side and her years of numerous fighting styles training to protect her. Her feet moved noiselessly on the pavement as she headed into the darkest recesses of the narrow street. The shadowy figure of a man at the end leaning up against a dirty brick building loomed into view and Lillian halted, waiting for him to spot her.
“There you are,” Juhotta's gruff voice was hardly welcoming.
“Good day to you too,” Lillian greeted sarcastically as she stepped over to him, breathing in the overwhelming fumes of his cigar. “You ready for this?”
“I was born ready,” Juhotta laughed harshly, shaking his head slightly at her in a brief moment of displeasure. “Remember though, I can't ruin this thing. You've got to do it right. If I give myself away too early the others might be alerted.”
Lillian grinned, standing taller. “You're on my turf now and that means my rules. I just need Carmen out of the way and the others as well.”
“And how do you propose that?” Juhotta asked with no emotion.
“I can get Carmen away easy as pie. It's the others I'm more worried about. I just can't have anyone snooping around. It wouldn't be good if my friend saw you either...I'm not positive where her loyalties lie. Perhaps you could create a distraction to keep the others busy,” she suggested.
Juhotta smirked evilly. “I might could do that...”
Lillian nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Just whatever you do don't let them see you. Maybe turn the power off or something.”
“Oh I think starting another panic attack might just be the ticket,” Juhotta planned aloud, his sickly grin widening.
“Sure. That's fine. Whatever you want. Just please don't let them see you,” Lillian reminded again. If Mark happened to tell...”
“Don't worry. I've got this. Now let's head there now and do this thing. I want Mark dead by tonight,” Juhotta replied with finality.
Two hours later, Mark's eyes slid open wearily. Frank looked up “Hey I thought you'd recognize that! I'm watching Top Gun, your favorite!” He turned the screen so Mark could see the movie. The pilot nodded but then visibly winced, pressing his hand to his stomach. “Hang on,” Frank encouraged as he pushed the call button. “I'll get Sandra to give you some more painkillers.”
Mark glanced around the room looking confused, seeming not to remember what had happened. Sandra stepped in a moment later and smiled kindly at Mark. “Hey buddy! Glad you're finally awake,” she told him as she added the dose to his IV and pat Frank on the shoulder. “How are you doing?” she asked the elderly man.
“As fine as ever except for this bloody knee,” Frank huffed. “Mark do you want to watch the movie with me?” Mark nodded and gave a half smile around the breathing tube. Frank scooted his wheelchair closer and propped up the tablet so they both could see it as Sandra left the room. “Here I'll play it from the beginning so you won't miss anything.”
Lillian walked purposely into the office and motioned to Carmen. “Hey there! Why don't you go home for the day? I'll take over here...don't worry you're not in trouble,” she added quickly as Carmen gave her friend a hug and quickly agreed.
Juhotta snuck into the hospital and, using Lillian's access pass, helped himself to the whole ER section of the hospital. Lucky for him, Frank had fallen asleep. Juhotta opened the door to Mark's room just a crack and glared at Mark, his heart pounding in his chest.
Mark made eye contact and recoiled back in fear like a whip. He grabbed Frank's wrist as Juhotta quietly closed the door and slipped away. Frantically trying to sit up, monitors began to sound in warning as his heart rate shot sky high. Frank jolted awake. “Goodness Mark! Whatever is the matter?! Dylan! Sandra! Get in here now!”
Dylan raced in with Sandra close behind. “What...oh dear. I was worried about this.” he hurried over to Mark. “Easy buddy. It's alright. Everything's ok,” he tried to sooth the panic-stricken man.
Mark shook his head weakly, trying to rid himself of the tubes and wires attached to his body. Frank gently pressed his hands down. “Mark it's alright. Come on. Listen to my voice,” he urged, trying to keep calm.
“You want him on a sedative?” Sandra asked, already edging towards the door.
“Yes,” Dylan ordered. “I want him on one right now. He cannot have another setback and his body is not strong enough for this type of strain.”
Mark jerked away from Frank at the word “sedative,” his panic level growing. His eyes stared pleadingly into his friend's as he teared at the sheets, trying to free himself. “Mark if you calm down maybe you won't have to have one. Come on buddy. Please,” Frank begged as Sandra returned.
Sandra eyed Dylan. “If he calms down in the next thirty seconds do you still want me to give it to him?” she asked.
“Yes. His body needs to reboot every time he does this and it's best if he didn't have to think about it. Just stand back and see if he calms down just a bit though.”
Frank reached for Mark's hand but his friend pulled back from any physical contact and tried his best to curl up into a ball, burying his head in his hands. He lay still, sucking in a breath against the machine every now and then. “Mark whatever is wrong?” Frank asked anxiously, biting his lip. “You were fine just a minute ago.” Mark buried his head further, not wanting to hear anyone's attempts to calm him down or answer questions.
Sandra quietly injected the sedative into Mark's IV and motioned Dylan outside. “Dylan we really need to figure out what's triggering these panic attacks. We just can't keep letting them happen. They are probably connected somehow but for the life of me I can't figure out what that something is.”
“I-I think we need to investigate that scar,” Dylan admitted reluctantly.
“He'll have a fit if he isn't asleep. We could wait till that sedative kicks in,” Sandra suggested.
“Absolutely. We'll plan to as soon as it takes full effect.”
Back in Mark's room, the pilot was trying his best to fight off the sedative but despite his efforts he felt himself slipping away. His panic rose again and he gripped the sheets with crushing force. Frank eyed him worriedly. “Mark it's ok buddy,” he soothed again. “Just take a nice nap and when you wake up we'll finish the movie,” he promised. To his relief, Mark lay back and was sound asleep within minutes.
Sandra and Dylan crept back in. “Is he asleep?” Dylan asked quietly.
Frank nodded, heaving a heavy sigh. “Yes. What's the plan?”
“We'd like to do a CT scan and X-Ray to see what's going on with that arm he keeps messing with,” Dylan explained.
“Yes we don't want to make an incision,” Sandra agreed hastily. “He'd know in an instant. Let's do the X-Ray first.”
Dylan helped Sandra wheel the gurney down to the X-ray room and get him situated. Sandra pressed the button and the picture was taken. “Got it! Now we just wait until they develop,” she announced.
“Great. CT scan next?” Dylan asked. “I'll do that and take Mark back to his room if you can get the others. I'll meet you in the Break Room when I'm done.”
Dylan helped Sandra wheel the gurney down to the X-ray room and get him situated. Sandra pressed the button and the picture was taken. “Got it! Now we just wait until they develop,” she announced.
“Great. CT scan next?” Dylan asked. “I'll do that and take Mark back to his room if you can get the others. I'll meet you in the Break Room when I'm done."
“Sounds good!” Sandra agreed as she headed out of the room. A few minutes later she slipped the photographs into an orange envelope and took them to the meeting place. While she waited for Dylan, Sandra quickly prepared two cups of tea.
Dylan met her shortly after with his pictures. “Alright, let's see what we have.”
Sandra pulled out the photographs and placed them onto the light. They eagerly scanned them and it wasn't long before she gasped. “What in creation is that?! It looks like metal.”
“Yeah, I saw that on mine too so I blew up the picture so we could see better,” Dylan announced as he pulled out the image. “It's rectangular in shape.”
Eyes squinting in concentration, Sandra could hardly believe what she was seeing. “It...it looks...like a...”
“Memory chip,” Dylan finished for her.
“Yes! Exactly!” Sandra exclaimed.
“That's what I though too but I wanted a second opinion. This is a startling discovery. But what is is for and why is it in his arm?” Dylan glanced slightly nervously around the room.
Precisely at that moment the door opened. Lillian stepped into the room. “What are you two doing?” she asked, not betraying the fact that she had been listening outside the door the whole time. Her fingers itched to get a hold of the X-rays but she had to keep her cool. She could get the photographs to Juhotta later.
Sandra jumped. “Miss Lillian! I-I thought you were back in Europe!”
“I came back,” Lillian replied simply. “You didn't answer my question.”
“Uh...nothing. Just making sure Mark didn't break anything in his most recent panic attack,” Dylan answered quickly, hoping his voice sounded convincing. He eased himself in front of the images trying to block them from view.
Lillian's eyebrows rose in mock interest. “And did he?”
Sandra nodded. “Yes! Come here and I'll show you what he did!” she marched passed Lillian and tried to lead her out of the room. Thankfully Lillian followed. Sandra took her boss to Mark's room. “He pulled his IVS out, and the breathing tube, and the stomach drain! That's what he did!”
Sighing, Lillian glanced Mark over. Sandra took the opportunity to fire off a quick text to Dylan. “Hurry up and hide those x-rays. Use some other patient's. Lillian's gonna insist we show them to her!” she typed frantically.
“Well why did you have to take an X-ray to see that?” Lillian pressed, turning her attention back to Sandra.
“We wanted to make sure he did no internal damage,” Sandra replied quickly, hoping Lillian couldn't hear her heart pounding in her chest.
Dylan's phone buzzed as he received Sandra's text. Upon reading it, he sighed. “Oh Mark, what have you gotten yourself into?” Hurriedly hiding the photographs he grabbed one from an older file and replaced the in the other's spot. “There. That should do the trick.”
Back in Mark's room, the pilot's eyes slid open. Frank glanced nervously at Lillian before forcing a smile at Mark. “Hey buddy, have a nice nap?” he asked, searching deep into his friend's eyes. Mark gave a weak nod in return but looked tired and pale. “You want to finish that movie now?” Frank asked, trying to distract him.
“We'll let you two have some time. Come along Sandra, I want to have a look at those X-rays.” Lillian ushered Sandra out of the room.
Mark idly watched them leave before shaking his head slightly. His eyes were unfocused and his hands trembled slightly. Frank turned his chair so that he could look Mark straight in the eyes. “Mark there is nothing to worry about. I promise. Are you tired?” he asked.
For a moment, Mark didn't answer. Then he gave a short nod. “Just rest then,” Frank urged. “You're safe with me.” Mark's body tensed and he shook his head again. Frank looked at him worriedly. “But it's safe! I'm sitting right here!”
Shaking his head for the third time, a slight groan escaped past the breathing tube as Mark grabbed at Frank's wrist weakly. “Mark what's wrong? Why are you acting like this?” Frank asked, moving his arm closer to his friend. Shakily, Mark touched his head and then his stomach with his left hand.
“Your head hurts?” Frank asked, looking puzzled. At an agreeing nod from Mark and another gesture to his stomach Frank realized he probably needed another painkiller. He pressed the call button and settled down to wait.
Sandra came back a few minutes later with Dylan on her heels. “I'm sorry. Lillian was being a pain again. Here you go Mark. This should help.” Sandra added the painkillers to his IV, glanced at him and noticed he was looking right at her. Hastily dropping her eyes, she turned the other way so he wouldn't see the rosy color that was creeping into her cheeks.
A soft rap at the window startled Frank. He turned around and saw Kelsey waving at them. Dylan opened the window. “Kelsey! What are you doing outside like that!?” he asked in surprise. Upon seeing her, Mark turned his back towards Kelsey and sighed.
“This is not my normal behavior I assure you,” Kelsey replied. “I needed to talk to Dylan. By the way, hello Mark! I hope you are feeling better.”
Mark only curled up tighter. Frank put a hand on his shoulder. “Mark it's ok! You know Kelsey. She was your doctor!”
“What's up?” Dylan asked with another of his many frequent glances at Mark.
“I think Lillian and Carmen kicked me out for good,” Kelsey muttered. “She is really starting to creep me out.”
“Something's going on,” Dylan agreed hastily. “She really wanted Mark's X-rays.” he showed her the picture.
Before Kelsey had time to register, Mark jerked back with a strangled cry. He did his best to shove off the bed sheets and threw every ounce of his strength into breathing against the ventilator. The machine beeped, registering the change. Sweat broke out on Mark's face as he forced himself to breath, his eyes wild.
“Mark calm down!” Frank begged. “We're not going to hurt you! Please!” Hands shaking, Mark continued for force breaths passed the machine which kept beeping, registering the resistance. “Mark please! Listen to me!” Frank continued to plead with his friend.
Sandra held up a sedative, her eyes continually drifting back to Mark. Though outwardly she didn't show it, she was scared, terrified for him. “Wait a second,” Dylan told her. “Mark, you want that out don't you?”
Mark settled slightly and nodded as he tried to regulate his breathing. “Well we can certainly arrange that. Just please calm down Mark,” Sandra repeated Frank's earlier use of words.
“Please get an oxygen mask and an ambu bag Sandra,” Dylan instructed.
Sandra grinned. “Sure thing!” She hurried out of the room with a wink at Kelsey.
Frank smiled at Mark. “Good work buddy. You've earned this.”
It didn't take long before Sandra returned with the requested items. “Alright I'll slip this over his head when you take the tube out.” she prepped the mask and snapped the ambu bag onto it and stepped closer to Mark.
Dylan nodded. “Alright. Be ready though. I want the mask on his face the second the tube is extracted.” He turned to Mark. “Ok buddy I want you to give me a big cough ok?”
Mark forced a deep breath and coughed as hard as he could. Dylan slipped the tube out of his throat as Sandra pressed the mask to the pilot's mouth and nose. “Alright, it's on,” she announced a second later as she began to squeeze the ambu bag rhythmically.
“Ok. Mark don't fight it. Sandra's gonna help you with your breathing a minute,” Dylan urged. The pilot's fingers curled around his covers as he tried to breathe by himself despite Dylan's words.
“Easy Mark,” Sandra encouraged. “Don't fight it buddy. Just try to relax.”
“That's right. Listen to Sandra. You're doing great!” Frank chimed in.
Dylan had his eyes glued to the monitor mapping out Mark's vital signs. “O2 has dropped a bit but I was expecting that. You're doing great, Mark.”
Sandra glanced at the doctor. “Dylan, just let me know when you want me to ease off of it.”
“Alright, I think we've regulated things enough,” Dylan announced a minute or two later. “I'm gonna let him try on his own for a bit. If he can hold his own we'll keep him off the ventilator for good.” Dylan watched as Sandra removed the ambu bag and attached the mask to a regular oxygen tank. After that she stepped back to give him some space.
“Slow and steady Mark. Just relax,” Sandra urged.
Mark's eyes closed as he focused on the task set before him. He felt a hand settle gently on his shoulder and felt Frank's presence close to him. That helped too. “That's right Mark. You're doing brilliant,” he encouraged.
A few minutes passed and Mark made a move to take off the oxygen mask. Dylan gently removed his hand. “No no no Mark. I know you probably have a lot to tell us but you've just come off a ventilator after two weeks of no breathing on your own. Just take a little nap and if your stats hold up we'll let you talk. Alright?”
Sandra nodded. “That's right. We don't want to rush things.” She smiled as Mark shut his eyes. Kelsey drew her attention to the window. “Hey, meet me at the Break Room window. I need to discuss something with you and Dylan,” she told them.
“Ok. Mark needs quiet anyway so let's just head there. Frank you can stay with him of course.” The others piled out and headed to the room Kelsey had directed.
Dylan offered his hand and helped Kelsey into the room and she gave him a sheepish grin. Dylan smiled back but then became serious. “Something is definitely going on. He started fighting when he saw the pictures.”
Kelsey looked around, worried. “If Carmen finds me here she'll kill me. I was walking around outside and I found tracks by the window and everywhere they normally aren't.”
Dylan stiffened. “Really? Did they look familiar?”
Kelsey shook her head. “No but maybe you or Mark or Frank could.”
“Take me to them then!” Dylan urged eagerly. “I can at least tell if they are one of the doctors.”
“You wanna climb out the window?” Kelsey asked, grinning slightly.
Dylan shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Haven't had a chance to test out this arm since it came out of the cast.”
Shaking her head slightly, Kelsey watched as he bounded out and landed softly in the grass. He turned around and gave her a deep bow before assisting her out the window. “And that my friend is how to escape out of a window!” he teased, glancing at her hand in his. He pretended not to notice her blush.
Kelsey quickly recovered and led Dylan around the side of the building. “See? These have to be a woman's. They are high heels. These here are probably a man's but I have no idea who's they are,” she admitted, pointing out several imprints in the ground.
Dylan bent close to them and after a minute, shook his head. “These don't belong to anyone I know. Too bad.”
Sighing, Kelsey leaned against the hospital. “I know Lillian wears high-heels but she hates to walk in the mud.”
Examining the male's footprints again, Dylan gave a start. “Mark saw something the other day. Remember? Something that scared him.”
Kelsey's eyes widened. “The window is low enough for me to look into and yeah that could have been it! I was just here earlier as you already know. Yeah that's a likely possibility.”
“I think we need to talk to Mark and set things straight,” Dylan concluded.
Chapter 12
Juhotta's head snapped up as Lillian approached. He couldn't tell if there was fear in her eyes or just because she was so annoyed. “I thought you said that would work,” he muttered, tapping his cigar on the dirty bricks.
“They wouldn't leave his room!” Lillian snapped, answering Juhotta's earlier silent question. “We've got to try a different way.”
“I want that chip now!” Juhotta hissed. “Why can't you just arrange some kind of surgery for him?”
Lillian rolled her eyes. “You can't just arrange a surgery. You have to have a medical reason.”
“You own the bloody hospital!” Juhotta cursed. “Why can't you just do something!? You couldn't even get me the X-rays!”
“I can't just waltz into the hospital and demand to do surgery on Mark,” Lillian sighed. “My cover would be blown in an instant.”
“Well then what do you propose little Miss 'I own a hospital?'” Juhotta mocked angrily.
“Just hush! Let me think. Hmm......there is something called exploratory surgery.”
“Whatever works. I want him to watch as I rip that chip right out of his arm. His screams will be music to my ears...” Juhotta's voice trailed off dreamily.
“Hang on a sec. We have to think this through. The other docs insist on being with him at all times,” Lillian replied.
“Again, I'm not sure why you're not just taking over his case. But, if we could get him into the operating room, even if his miserable little first officer or Frank were there I could take them out easily. I want them all dead after I kill Holbrook anyway so I don't care.”
“We can't just do that and get away with it,” Lillian reminded.
“I just want him and I want him now!” Juhotta snapped.
“Why don't we just sleep on it and maybe we'll have a better idea by morning. You're driving me up the wall anyway,” Lillian retorted.
Anger flashed in Juhotta's glittering black eyes. “Just you remember Miss that you work with me and if you don't cooperate I can't promise you safety or money. Just remember that.”
“Well then...I'm trying to get you in but you don't know anything about the medical world. I'm trying to figure out something!” Lillian returned.
“My patience is wearing thin Lillian. I have a load of people on my case about this. I can't afford to keep them waiting much longer.”
“Fine. I'll just go in there and demand to take complete control of Mark Yeah I'm sure that will work great,” Lillian muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
“You will if it is the only means we have to get that chip. We don't want to suffer other unpleasant consequences.”
“Let's just head over there now then. I'll think of something on the way,” Lillian decided.
Back at the hospital, Dylan had just photographed a picture of the footprints. “I'm gonna talk to Mark. We need to find out what's going on here.”
“Go ahead,” Kelsey sighed. “I'm leaving. Can't be seen around here.” Her tone was slightly bitter.
Dylan put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey Kelsey it's alright. We're doing everything we can to get you back. You know that.”
Kelsey nearly melted under his compassionate gaze. She couldn't keep staring into his eyes. “Y-yeah, I'm sorry,” she stammered. “I'm not being very nice. Haven't been sleeping and I've been worrying. I'm sorry.”
“I understand,” Dylan assured her. “I haven't been myself either.”
“We've all been under a lot of stress,” Kelsey pointed out. “Still that does not excuse my terrible behavior. I do my best to be nice...but sometimes I slip up.” She was staring hard at her shoes now.
“It's not your fault. I understand. I'm working on a way to get you back. In the meantime I need you to keep these pictures well hidden. Don't let anyone see them, ok?” Dylan asked as he looked seriously into her soft brown eyes.
“Yeah. I'll do that. They won't be found easily. See you later,” Kelsey called as she hurried away. Dylan watched until she was out of sight and sighed. He loved her eyes. He loved the way she smiled. He loved...Dylan shook his head trying to clear the nagging thoughts as he headed back to Mark's room.
Mark tugged on the mask but his movements were sluggish and he couldn't seem to pry it off. Frank gently pulled his hands away. “Easy Mark. Not yet buddy,” he urged.
Shaking his head, Mark pried the mask halfway off and began to speak despite being muffled by the mask. “J-Juhotta is he-here!” Immediately he exploded into violent coughing and cried out from the pain it caused. Feverish sweat rolled down his face.
“Mark, no one is here,” Dylan assured. “Don't have another panic attack on me now. Come on. Slow breaths buddy.” Mark shook his head weakly but tried to regulate his breathing so he wouldn't be sedated.
“Good job Mark. Just calm down,” Frank encouraged. “It's alright. Nobody is here to hurt you.”
Lillian approached the hospital with Juhotta walking impatiently beside her. They had ditched their car in a hidden location figuring they would be harder to spot on foot. The white building loomed into view and Juhotta's heart rate quickened. “Remember I can't go in until the coast is clear,” he reminded.
“I have so got this!” Lillian promised, rolling her eyes. “You wait outside his room in the bushes. I'll run in and send everyone on a goose chase after you...the opposite direction of course. I'll meet you in the entry and we'll take care of Mark with no one to bother us.”
“Good. Now get to it,” Juhotta replied hastily as he headed towards his post.
Lillian nodded, her golden waves of hair flouncing. “Ok, ok Mr. Impatient!” she called before stepping into the hospital. Behind her, Juhotta crouched low in the bushes, shaking with anticipation. To Lillian's surprise, Carmen met her in the entry way. “What are you doing back here?” she asked curiously.
Lillian grabbed Carmen's arm. “The guy that tried to kill Mark is back! You've got to warn everyone!”
“Wait what?” Carmen asked confused.
Lillian tugged Carmen after her. “GUYS THE GUY THAT TRIED TO KILL MARK IS BACK!” she yelled. “I saw him running!!”
Dylan's head popped out of the hall, too upset to realize Lillian's sentence was obviously not true, just what she had counted on. “I knew something was wrong! Quick! We've got to find him!” he shouted. “Sandra! You come with me and Frank you can help too. We have to get him!”
Frank nodded, caught up in the panic. He wheeled his chair down the hall as fast as he could. Sandra ran up to Dylan. “Oh this is not good!”
“I know,” Dylan admitted, running beside her. “He failed to kill Mark once. I doubt he'll fail again. Those pictures...this has something to do with this. We have got to find him and someone needs to call the police.”
“Already on it!” Sandra huffed as she pulled out her phone.
A minute later, Juhotta sauntered into Mark's room with Lillian and grinned evilly behind a surgical mask. “Hello Holbrook,” he smirked.
Mark's body went rigid as he recognized the voice and he made a move to get up. Lillian rolled her eyes as she pushed his weak body back down. “Lay still captain! We have some unfinished business with you.”
“Miss Lillian, please prepare Mark for his surgery,” Juhotta grinned. “Of course I want him awake.”
Ripping the mask off, Mark tried desperately to muffle another fit of coughing. “You won't get away with this!” he growled hoarsely.
“Oh hush Captain,” Lillian replied cheerfully. “Save your voice. You'll need it for later. Put him in restraints Juhotta?” she held up the leather straps.
“Yes! Absolutely,” Juhotta agreed. “Mark, you have no clue how long I have been waiting for this day.”
Mark flailed and fought back weakly as Lillian roughly jerked his arms to the bed rail and strapped them tightly to the metal bars. Juhotta did the same with his feet. “Tell me when your hands go numb,” Lillian grinned with mock politeness.
“Help! Someone help!” Mark cried weakly as he continued to struggle despite the restraints. He stifled a groan as the movement tugged on the stomach drain.
“Make him hush!” Juhotta growled as he pushed Mark's bed to the operating room. Lillian clapped her hand over his mouth as they finished their journey. In the OR, she grabbed a strip of tape and plastered it over his mouth. That should help and you can still hear him scream!” she laughed.
It took a minute but they managed take Mark out of the restraints and strap him to the operating table instead of the bed, being as rough as they could. Finally he was secure to their satisfaction.
Mark mumbled out something but it couldn't be understood as it was muffled by the tape. He continued to struggle and shake his head, his face pale with fear. Juhotta picked up a scalpel and leaned close to Mark's right arm. He lowered the blade towards it but stopped halfway. “I told you I was going to make you pay, Holbrook. You may have defeated my brothers but you couldn't defeat me. Now I shall enjoy watching your pain almost as much as your colossal failure. It's a shame so many had to die, Holbrook. They should have known not to leave something so valuable with someone as so pathetically useless as you.”
Eyes wide with panic, Mark could only watched as the sharp metal blade inched towards his arm. He was helpless to escape, helpless to fight back. Juhotta rested the tip an instant on his flesh before catching the pilot's eye and sneering. Then he slowly drew the blade along Mark's skin, making the incision.
Mark let out a muffled scream as his muscles tensed. He tried to kick out with his legs but the straps were so tight he couldn't budge an inch. His back arched off of the table as he made a useless attempt to escape the searing pain inching along his arm. “Aww Mark, you're such a cooperative patient being so still like that!” Lillian mocked as she drew a finger along the side of his face.
“Where could he be?!” Dylan gasped as he rounded the side of the hospital and nearly ran into Catherine.
“Mark's gone! I just got here and he's not in his room! Dylan he's gone!” she yelled.
Dylan skid to a halt. “What?! Get the hospital under lockdown NOW!” he raced back towards the front doors. “We have got to find him NOW!”
They met Frank in the hall and relayed the message to him. Frank's heart nearly stopped beating at the news. “W-where is h-he!?” the elderly character gulped. Together they raced towards Mark's room but paused when they heard the muffled screams.
“Mark!” They said in unison, instantly heading for the OR. Dylan reached it first and tried the door. It was jammed shut. “I need your help! I need help!” Dylan yelled.
“Mark stop thrashing!” Lillian snapped as she slapped his face. Mark flinched but didn't back down on his efforts. Summoning all of his remaining strength he pulled as hard as he could and to his great surprise, the leather came apart, freeing his hand. With it, he brought it around in a punch that landed solidly on Juhotta's nose causing him to drop the scalpel. Blood poured on the table and floor as he twisted around and shoved Lillian back.
“Get away from me you creep!” Lillian yelled. “Juhotta finish him!”
Sandra raced up to Dylan. “Kick it down!?” she gasped, holding her sides.
“Something! I need something!” Dylan cried as he threw all his weight against the unyielding door.
Juhotta picked the bloodied scalpel off of the floor and made a move to stab Mark but the pilot had freed his other hand and avoided the fatal blow by inches though the blade made a deep cut diagonally across his chest. Mark ripped the tape off and screamed with pain. “I-I'll make you pay you traitorous scum! You won't live to see the rest of this day!” he yelled, turning his anger into energy.
Lillian glanced anxiously at the door. “Juhotta get that chip! We have to go now!”
Springing into action, Juhotta pinned Mark down, leaving his arm exposed. His knife tore through Mark's arm. He was no longer being careful. The pilot screamed in agony, trying to hold him off. His attempts were getting weaker.
“Dylan we'll both ram it together!” Sandra yelled.
They both heard Mark scream. Dylan winced. “Ok! On the count of three! One...two...”
“JUHOTTA!” Lillian yelled, yanking him away from Mark. “WE'RE LEAVING NOW!” she pulled him out the emergency exit not stopping to see if he had the chip or not.
“We'll be back, Holbrook,” Juhotta growled menacingly as they disappeared.
“THREE!” Sandra and Dylan yelled as one and threw their weight against the door. It flung open and the two stumbled in, Frank close behind. Mark was leaning against the table and he began to crumple to the floor, his breathing harsh and ragged. Blood poured from the cut on his chest and from his arm, pooling on the once white floor. The drain also lay on the floor, pulled out in the scuffle.
“Oh my word...Mark!” Sandra screamed, momentarily frozen in shock at his appearance. “Oh Dylan look at him!”
Dylan raced over and caught the sagging form of his friend. “Easy Mark. Easy. It's going to be alright,” he tried to sooth him as he pressed the oxygen mask to his face. “I need someone to patch him up. Hurry! He's going to bleed out if we let this go much longer!”
Sandra stood in a daze, unmoving. Frank shook her. “Sandra snap out of it! We've got to help Mark!” he grabbed a roll of gauze.
Blinking, Sandra was jerked into the presence as tears sprang to her eyes. All she could see was the pain etched on Mark's face and the hurt helpless look in his eyes. It consumed her and she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze away.
“SANDRA!” Dylan yelled, yanking her towards the pilot. “We need to stop the bleeding! Hurry up!”
Frank grabbed another roll and thrust it into her hands before using a wad of his and some towels he had spotted to press against the wounds trying to staunch the flow of blood. Mark writhed underneath the pressure.
“Easy! Easy M-Mark!” Sandra sobbed as she too followed Frank's example. Her vision was blurred with tears.
Dylan had reinserted the drain by now. Mark clawed at his bleeding arm. “W-want it o-out, want i-it out! G-get it out of m-me!” he gasped.
Frank looked him in the eye. “Mark It'll be ok. Just a bit longer. Hang in there buddy.”
“Dylan he needs to be on the oxygen and he's gonna need a blood transfusion. Oh Mark what did they do to you!?” Sandra asked.
“NO!” Mark sat up in sudden surge of energy. He grabbed the pair of tweezers from off the tray and began digging in his lacerated arm with shaking hands. Biting his lip to keep from crying out, blood trickled down his chin. Sandra grabbed the metal tool.
“What are you doing Mark!?” She demanded.
“G-gotta get t-the chip o-outta me!” Mark gasped as he yanked the tweezers from Sandra. “H-have to get i-it out!” A few seconds later with a cry of pain, Mark pulled out the shiny, blood-covered object and fell back on the table, too weak to move.
“Get him on a blood transfusion and get this bleeding under control! Dylan ordered. “Mark you should not have done that!”
“H-had to p-protect it. C-can't do that if I-I'm dead,” Mark murmured through gritted teeth.
“Shhh,” Frank soothed as he applied more pressure to Mark's arm. The towel was already stained red with Mark's blood. “It's alright now. Just take a few deep breaths.”
Dylan replaced the oxygen mask onto Mark's face before inserting a needle attached to an IV that gave him a much needed dose of blood and heavy painkillers. Sandra finally pushed her feelings aside and set to work stitching up the cuts after a numbing agent had been applied. “Boy Mark, they sure got you good,” she admitted.
Mark nodded weakly as his head lolled to the side. His eyes were beginning to drift shut but he fought to keep them open. “Easy Mark. Just rest. We're right here,” Frank reassured his friend.
“This is all my fault,” Dylan announced as he watched Mark drift into unconsciousness. “I shouldn't have left him alone.”
“No! It's m-my fault!” Frank stammered, pale-faced. “I promised I wouldn't leave him and I did!”
“I was the one who told you to go in the first place,” Dylan reminded. “There were two people. Juhotta was obviously one of them. Did anyone catch who the other was?” he asked urgently.
“I...I did...” Frank stammered, shaking from head to foot.
Chapter 13:
Two pairs of feet flew down the alley. Juhotta jerked the door of his getaway car open as his companion Lillian followed suit. “Did you get it?” she asked, gasping from the long run.
No!” Juhotta growled, starting up the car and putting the gas pedal to the floor. “The little tart wouldn't stop moving!”
“Of all the nerve!” Lillian hissed. “You couldn't have held him down for ONE second longer?!”
“HE WAS SQUIRMING! You try holding him down! Maybe if YOU had helped this wouldn't have happened!” Juhotta yelled, running a stop light. “Outta the way you bloody cars.”
“Well running us into a tree and getting caught by the COPS won't help us out either!” Lillian snapped.
That brought Juhotta slightly back to reality. He eased off the gas and took a deep breath. “We need to regroup and try again.”
“Oh? Well who else is a part of your oh-so-great plan?” Lillian retorted.
“I've gotta talk to the big boss.”
“Well I for one don't envy you one bit this time,” Lillian huffed.
“Yeah. He's gonna be angry when he finds out I don't have the chip,” Juhotta muttered, already feeling chilly with fear.
Back at Silver Springs, things were in chaos and confusion. The glass doors to the hospital opened and a man stepped in, his presence demanding order. He was tall and had black glasses, hiding his eyes. His blondish brown hair was short and neatly groomed and he had a black suit on with a red tie. His shoes were also black and newly shined. He stepped up to the desk and peered down at Carmen. “My name is Inspector Callahan. I was called here to investigate a threat?” He asked coolly, his voice deep and strong. “Are you the director of this hospital?” He flashed his badge and waited for her response.
Carmen stood up, her face still pale from the earlier excitement. “I-I work here when the owner's away. I'm the manager. But Lillian...wait a sec...where did she go?” Carmen asked, looking around.
Callahan sighed. “Ma'am I do not have time for this utter nonsense. There are lives at stake. I understand a victim was involved? One of your patients I presume. I would like to question him and any witnesses there may have been.”
“H-he IS in critical condition sir,” Carmen stammered, glaring at Kelsey who had dared return despite her earlier orders. “B-but of course you may see him. Right this way please,” she told him, hurrying down the hall.
Callahan followed her to the OR. “I'll be brief,” he promised, his eyes taking in everything from behind the dark glasses. “I'm here to question the victim and any witnesses,” he explained, pulling up a chair close to Mark. Frank gulped and stared down at the floor, unwilling to talk.
Sandra sighed. “I didn't exactly see what happened.”
“Is this the victim?” Callahan asked, gesturing to Mark who lay quiet on the table.
“Yes,” Dylan answered for the others as he lay a gentle hand on the pilot's shoulder. Mark groaned softly and opened his eyes, glancing lazily around the room.
Callahan's jaw tightened. “Yikes! looks like they did a number on him. Do any of you know any possible reasons why they would attack him?”
Sandra glanced frantically at Dylan, trying to catch his eye. Her blue eyes held the unmistakable question of whether or not they should tell. Mark stirred a bit more at the sight of the unfamiliar face and tensed up. “N-no...n-no....” he groaned.
“Hey hey Mark calm down,” Sandra urged, taking his hand in hers. Mark seemed to settle a bit.
“W-we have the video of what happened,” Frank offered, trying to give the others some time to figure out what to do.
“Excellent!” Callahan remarked, standing up and looking over Mark. “Let me see it please.”
“NO! N-no!” Mark gasped, throwing a weak punch at Callahan.
Sandra moved closer and gently held Mark's arm down. “Mark! It's ok buddy! He's just here to help. Now calm down pal and relax. It's alright I promise.”
“Hold him down,” Dylan ordered gently. “Fever's spiked again with all this stress. Probably need to sedate him.”
Callahan impatiently strolled around the room, waiting for the situation to resolve itself. His sharp eyes landed on the bloody chip, laying momentarily forgotten on the tray. Callahan pulled on a pair of blue gloves and picked up the object.
Frank gently held Mark down while Sandra injected a sedative into his IV. When she was done she spotted Callahan and grabbed Dylan's sleeve, putting a finger to her lips before pointing to the object in his hand. “D-don't l-let them h-have it. C-can't let t-them take i-it,” Mark whispered frantically to Frank.
Frank leaned closer to Mark. “Why? Why not? You've got to tell me or else I won't be able to stop him!” he urged.
Mark took a weak, shuddering breath, his lips taking on a bluish tinge from lack of oxygen. “P-Project...Cobolt,” he whispered.
“Well what am I supposed to tell him?!” Frank asked, replacing the oxygen mask back over Mark's face.
“T-top...s-secret...” Mark murmured before his head lolled to the side as the drugs pulled him under.
Frank bit his lip and caught Dylan's attention, pointing to Callahan and bringing his hand across his neck in a desperate gesture to relay a message. At that moment, the inspector turned around. “What is this?” he asked, holding up the chip.
“Oh...uh...sorry about that,” Dylan laughed nervously, hoping he had read Frank right. “Just finished operating on a kid earlier. Swallowed a memory chip. Amazing what kids will put in their mouths isn't it?” he asked, taking the object.
“Yeah it's insane!” Sandra chimed in. “You have no clue how many objects I've had to extract from children. Coins, safety pins, one even swallowed a whole crayon. And lots of buttons. So many. It's crazy.”
“How charming,” Callahan replied in a bored tone of voice. “Well it looks like the victim isn't exactly in any shape to talk at the moment so if you don't mind I'll pop in later. Carmen, I want to see that video.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the two left the Operating Room and disappeared around the corner. “Phew that was close!” Frank mumbled.
“Too close,” Dylan agreed. “At least this will buy us time to get a story straight.”
Sandra sat down in Callahan's vacated chair. “I-I can't take this anymore,” she admitted, burying her head in her hands.
“Well how do you thing Mark feels?” Dylan asked, his voice harsher than what he had intended. “He just got cut open for a bloody piece of metal! We are going to do everything we can to protect him as he has obviously done for us. We just have to figure out what this chip is and what it was doing in Mark.”
Sandra jumped up, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Yeah well being held at gunpoint, your best friend getting fired for no reason AND lying to investigators isn't really my thing!” she shot back, nearly yelling.
Frank's eyes widened. Sandra, who was always so calm cool and collected, who never yelled had practically lost her temper. It was nearly unthinkable. “Oh yeah?” Dylan growled. “Well I didn't ask for any of this either! You don't understand what it's like to watch your best friend bleeding out in front of your eyes, or need machines to live or be so completely panic-stricken that he can't remember who I am all because of something I can't control and can't understand so don't even talk to me about a cup of tea!” He shouted, losing it himself.
Tears sprang suddenly to Sandra's eyes. “Dylan Robertson I-I do know what it's like. You know nothing about what I have been through. I bet you wouldn't care.” Her voice had gone soft, a heartbroken tone. She turned around and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Making her escape to the break room, she threw herself onto the couch and sobbed into the pillow.
Dylan grabbed fistfuls of his hair in exasperation. “I-I can't deal with this right now. I can't! I need some air,” he yelled, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.
Kelsey nearly ran into him in the hall. Her face was as white as a sheet. “What's going on?!” She gasped, breathless. “Is everyone ok?!”
“Mark was attacked,” Dylan nearly snapped. “Frank. I need Frank.” He yanked the door to the OR back open. “Frank get in here and help us get the video up and running. I don't know how to work the bloody machines!” he ordered. “We have to find out what is going on. Mark will be fine for a few minutes. Come on!”
The others reluctantly agreed and shuffled out of they room, all crowding around the computer screen. Frank pulled up the security video as Callahan watched curiously. “All right, here's the footage,” Frank announced, playing it.
In Mark's room, the pilot began to arouse. Looking around, he noticed everyone had left. Forcing himself to sit up, he pulled the oxygen mask off of his face and gently eased the IV's out, bandaging them with the bandages on the tray. Next he went for the stomach tube. Gritting his teeth he eased it out, covering the site it with a waterproof dressing. It took a moment but he managed to find the strength to get to his feet and made his way over to the chip which he taped to his dog tags with the medical tape. Slipping a piece of paper out of his pocket and with a shaking hand, Mark wrote a quick note.
“I'm so sorry I've caused you so much trouble. Project Cobolt is my duty and like a good soldier I must keep a stiff upper lip and carry on. Bringing you all into this will only put you in further danger. There is an explanation however for everything. At my home I have my computer. The password is TopGun1975. There is a file called Project Cobolt. It is password protected. Just enter the first seven letters of PI. It will explain what you are trying to find. Thank you all for what you have done for me. This is my war that I have to fight alone. Captain Mark Holbrook.” With that, Mark left without a trace.
Frank gasped as the footage played. “This is two minutes before we busted into the OR. Oh no...That's Juhotta...and Lillian!” His voice trailed into a horrified whisper. Callahan rewinded the video and re-watched it, his eyes taking in everything.
“Something's wrong,” Dylan mumbled.
“Yeah I can't figure it out. Why Lillian? Why would she do this?” Frank muttered, his fists clenched as he turned away from the sickening sight playing out before him on the screen.
“We should get back to Mark. We don't need to be leaving him alone. Come on,” Dylan practically begged. Frank hastily agreed and the two made their way back to the OR despite Callahan's attempts to question them further.
Frank gasped as his gaze fell upon the empty table. “Dylan?!” He gulped, his voice rising higher in panic. He glanced frantically around the room but his searching was not rewarded with a sight of Mark.
“Oh no...” Dylan gasped. “Juhotta must have kidnapped him! Quick! We've got to find him!” He raced to the Emergency exit and pushed the doors open, yelling for Mark the whole time.
“Dylan wait!” Frank called after him, holding up the tattered piece of paper. His hand was trembling. Dylan hurried back over as Frank tried to read it. He couldn't get past the second sentence before tears rolled freely down his cheeks and his voice failed him. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, Frank offered the paper to Dylan who finished it. There wasn't a dry eye in the room.
“We have to find him before he kills himself,” Dylan whispered, gently folding the note back and placing it in his pocket.
“Well I can't go anywhere in this stupid contraption!” Frank yelled, referring to the wheelchair. He was upset and very mad. “Go get Sandra and leave me here. I'm no use to anyone.”
Dylan raced out and returned a minute later with a set of crutches. He thrust them into Frank's hands. “Pull yourself together Frank!” He yelled. “We have to find him!”
Frank grabbed the items and awkwardly put them into position, unsteadily moving to the door. Kelsey and Dylan raced ahead and pounded on the locked door to the Break Room. “SANDRA!” Dylan yelled. “Mark's gone!”
The door opened abruptly and Sandra's tear stained face appeared, pale and frightened. “This had better not be a joke Dylan,” She muttered, still upset at him. Her answer was received in the form of the note Dylan handed to her. Sandra read the first sentence and thrusted it back. “Come on let's go.”
“I just texted Catherine. She's meeting us at Mark's house. Hurry up!” They raced to the car and piled in as Dylan cranked the engine and stepped hard on the gas. The tires nearly screeched as they pulled out of the parking lot and broke the speed limit racing for Mark's house. They arrived in record time.
Catherine ran out of the house, her face colorless. “He isn't here,” she gasped. “Must have been though. Grabbed a change of clothes and his filing cabinet has been gutted.”
“Is his computer still here?” Frank asked breathlessly.
“Yeah and how long do you think we missed him by?” Sandra asked.
“I can't tell. Didn't look for it. I think he ate something before he left. There was a used paper plate, something for stomachaches and a half drunk beer still warm on the counter,” Catherine reported.
Dylan shook his head. “Not good. Mark really doesn't drink. He's probably in pain. We have got to find his laptop!”
“Hang on a minute,” Frank interrupted. “We have no idea where Mark is. Shouldn't that be our first priority?”
“We don't know where he is. Maybe something in that laptop will give us a clue as to where he may be,” Dylan reasoned.
Frank's jaw tightened but he shrugged. “Fine.”
“Let's fan out and search the house!” Sandra suggested, taking a look around the living room.
The group searched diligently for several minutes, leaving no stone unturned. Finally Catherine called from the bedroom. “Found it!” Her voice was muffled.
Everyone raced upstairs. Dylan took the laptop and turned it on, typing in the password. “Come on, where's the file...” he muttered, searching for it. “Ah ha! Here it is.” Clicking on it, punched in the second password and to his relief, it opened, displaying a list of videos and files. Dylan clicked the first one, with a picture of a much younger Mark, his hair cut shorter for the RAF.
Frank gasped. “Oh my...that's just how I remember him. Oh it's been so long since I've seen him that happy...” his voice trailed off, trembling with emotion.
“Goodness! When was that taken?” Sandra asked, her heart beating wildly though she tried to hide how cute she thought he looked.
“He must have been about nineteen then,” Dylan answered, pushing the play button.
“So what is this for again?” The younger Mark was asking.
“It's in case you don't come back but it's also for documentation,” An unseen, deep, gruff voice behind the camera replied.
“Ok well, my name is Mark Holbrook and I've been chosen to be a part of Project Cobolt,” the young version of Mark told the camera. The video ended.
Frank blinked back tears. “I miss that Mark so much,” he sniffed.
Sandra pulled up a chair. “I don't know whether to be worried or excited about this. It's cool seeing him so young though,” she admitted, her voice softening in a dreamy sort of way.
Dylan nodded, the cursor hovering over the second video on the list. “I never knew this Mark. Here's another video. He looks kinda sick and tired here.” He promptly pushed play.
“This is Captain Holbrook,” Mark was saying. “Sorry I sound so bad. “Just woke up from the surgery they did to plant the chip in me. See?” He was holding up his arm, revealing the fresh stitches. “Top secret British information in this bad boy.” He was grinning weakly as the video ended.
Kelsey winced. “That looks like it was pretty invasive surgery. Wonder what else they did to him. Poor Mark.”
“Guess it was,” Dylan agreed. “Here's another one. Looks like he was doing a video diary.” He clicked on the play button.
Mark was laying in a hospital bed, looking weak and pale. Several IVS were attached to him as well as a nasal cannula in his nose. “Holbrook here...just getting over pneumonia.” He paused to cough. “Been in the hospital a couple of weeks. Met a fine chap, Frank's his name. He's been a right bloody good friend. Best one I've ever had.” The video ended there.
Kelsey wrapped her arms around her dad. “You've been a good friend to him.”
Frank turned away, his eyes shining with tears. “I-I can't watch anymore...too many m-memories” he admitted, his voice husky. He was trembling all over.
“Hang on hang on,” Dylan urged. “There's another one.” He pressed the play button.
Mark stood before the camera, dressed in full battle gear. Every trace of childishness was gone and his face was anything but amused. His eyes sparked determination. “This is Captain Mark Holbrook,” he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “I leave tonight leading a strike team to take out a deadly spy group known as the Black Ring. There is a chance I will not be returning as they are extremely dangerous and have posed a serious threat to both our government and even the safety of the world.” He hesitated slightly then. “Mum, Catherine and Stewart, I love you despite all that's happened. A-and Dad...I still love you too. This is Captain Mark Holbrook signing off,” the video concluded.
“Oh goodness...” Frank gulped. “He told everyone it was a surveillance team. I...I feel terrible.”
“So, he was after the people who are after him? I don't get it,” Sandra voiced her thoughts out loud.
Dylan pondered her question a moment. “I'm not sure right now. I'm not finding any more videos right this second but there are lots of documents,” he announced, clicking on one. “Project Cobolt was...or is a specialized task force picked by the British government. Planted with classified defense information...Mark led a strike team against the spy groups to throw off suspicion but information leaked when he was caught,” Dylan read aloud, scanning over a few of the files. “That must have been when your team was sent to rescue them Frank.”
“This is much bigger than what any of us thought,” Frank mumbled. “What's in that file?” he pointed to one as Dylan opened it. Another video met their gaze.
“Play it!” Sandra urged as Dylan obeyed.
All of them gasped as the footage began to play. Mark was tied to a wooden chair, his face bruised and bloodied almost beyond recognition. His blue shirt was torn and caked with dried blood. Through the tatters they could see the whip marks. “Let this be a lesson to you all,” A bone chilling voice was saying. “If you want your captain back you'd better tell us where the information is.”
Frank staggered backwards and tripped, nearly falling. His face was as white as a sheet. “N-no...no...n-no!” he begged, nearly in a panic attack.
Dylan turned to him, sympathy in his eyes. “Hey easy Frank it's alright,” he soothed. “I think this is when you guys were captured. That's Smirnov's voice. I'll never forget it.” He pulled up a picture. Two men captured their attention. One was Frank, thin and pale leaning against the wall of what looked to be a helicopter, and IV attached to his arm. His clothes were filthy. Mark lay beside him, his head resting on Frank's lap, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He was also hooked up to several IVS and his eyes were closed. He looked sick. Very very sick.
Tears glistened in Kelsey's soft eyes. “Dad...you kept me from this all these years!” she breathed.
Frank shook his head, his hands shaking terribly. “No no stop!” He begged. “I can't take this anymore!”
Dylan closed the file and shut down the computer. “We've got to find Mark right now. This is serious. He's going to get himself killed. Where would he go?”
Chapter 14
The room fell silent a moment as the group racked their brain trying to come up with an idea. Frank was the first with a conclusion and he snapped his fingers. “I've got it! He has to be going to the airfield. How else would he be getting out of here?” The others nodded their consent, wondering why they hadn't come up with that sooner.
“It's just across the street. Come on let's go!” Sandra exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and racing down the stairs.
“What about me I can't keep up?” Frank muttered, casting a disgusted look at his crutches and his knee.
Dylan grinned grimly. “Sorry about this pal,” he apologized as he hoisted Frank into a fireman's carry despite his protesting. As they approached the airfield Dylan paused. “Look! The office door is open! He pointed, shifting Frank to a more comfortable position. They all raced to the office. The bathroom door was ajar. Dylan gasped as he peeked in and set Frank gently down.
Mark was leaning over the toilet, dry heaving, his arms wrapped around his stomach. His jeans were loose and his shirt was baggy around his thin frame, barely hanging on to his skinny body. He was completely oblivious to their presence. Frank turned to the others, pressing a finger to his lips in a gesture to be quiet. “Let me talk to him,” he whispered, motioning everyone to the door that led outside. Dylan nodded, thought reluctantly and shooed everyone out.
In the bathroom, Mark continued to dry heave, his body racked with pain. He was still unaware of Frank's presence. “Hey Mark,” Frank called softly, placing a gentle hand on the younger man's hunched shoulder.
Mark jerked back, recoiling at the touch. He was breathing heavily. “W-weren't s-supposed to find me...” he gasped for a breath before continuing. “B-but that c-cheese sandwich didn't w-wanna stay put.”
Frank winced. “Cheese? Oh boy I'm sorry. Want some water?” he offered, feeling bad for how miserable Mark was obviously feeling.
Shaking his head, Mark got himself under a bit more control. “D-don't tell the others you found me. I assume y-you're smart enough to know you can't come because of your knee.”
“What does my knee have anything to do with this?” Frank asked. “Mark you scared me so badly!”
“Y-you can't come,” Mark repeated. “I have to do this, alone. Sandra Kelsey and Dylan were nearly killed because of me. I can't risk you guys again. I can't let you die because of something you can't control.”
Frank looked Mark straight in the eyes. “What about you? You're hurt and badly too.”
“T-the Black Ring doesn't s-sleep,” Mark returned. He moaned suddenly, leaning against the wall for support, trying desperately to mask his pain and nausea.
Concern crept into Frank's eyes. “Mark at least wait until you're healed. Please. As your friend I feel partially responsible for you and you seriously don't need to be running around right now in your current condition. I know you're worried about the others...Sandra's just upset. Dylan's words hit a nerve and brought back some bad memories. She'll be ok.”
Mark shook his head. “N-no. Lillian and Juhotta will kill you all. I have to go.” He pushed past Frank as he staggered out of the bathroom, giving an exaggerated huff as he saw the others. Before they had time to react he took off running for the plane.
Frank grabbed his crutches and hobbled as fast as he could after his friend. “Mark wait up! Please!” he begged. Mark had a good head start and despite Frank's efforts they heard the plane's engines start up before he had reached the plane.
Dylan ran up. “We've got to stop him!” he gasped. Luckily, Mark had forgotten to shut the door and the others piled in.
Mark was sitting slumped over in the pilot's seat, not appearing to be trying to go anywhere. He was gripping his stomach as tears of pain rolled down his pale face. His breathing was harsh and ragged and soft groans escaped his lips. Frank approached him cautiously, his heart going out to the young man. “Mark please. Stop and think about what you are doing,” he urged softly. “You are in no condition to be flying anywhere.”
“I-I h-have t-to...” Mark moaned before crying out at the severe pain he was feeling. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision that was beginning to blur. Sandra discretely pulled out a sedative and glanced questioningly at Dylan who nodded in affirmation.
“Mark, you can't go. You'll kill yourself. We won't let you do that,” Sandra told him softly as she stepped closer to him.
“No! Y-you aren't doing this to me! I won't e-endanger you further! You aren't doing this!” The injured pilot pressed himself against the back of the seat and reached for his flight bag trying to find some more liquor to take the edge off the pain. Sandra wasted no time injecting the sedative into his arm.
In just a few seconds time Mark realized what she had done. He could already feel the drugs pulling at him. “N-no no, please!” he begged. “J-Juhotta will be back. He will kill you! Please. Please. I have to do this. I have...” his voice trailed off as he put his efforts into trying to fight the sedative that were making him feel dizzy and lightheaded.
“Mark it's ok. Just calm down, relax and take a little nap,” Frank soothed, his hand perched comfortingly on Mark's shoulder.
Shaking his head weakly, Mark's eyes began to close and he began to doze off. The sensation of his body losing control and falling momentarily jerked him back into the present. “N-no...” he whispered. “H-hafta...hafta fight...” his body relaxed and Frank caught him as he fell asleep.
“Here. Help me lay him down and we'll see what's going on. He was in a lot of pain,” Dylan directed as he assisted Frank in easing the pilot out of the seat and onto his back on the plane's floor.
“He did take the drain out and he was moving quite a bit,” Kelsey reminded as Dylan did a quick abdominal exam on the unconscious pilot.
“No damage to his stitches, thank goodness,” Dylan sighed with relief. “We need to get him back to the hospital.”
“Agent Callahan will be onto us by now. We can't take him back,” Kelsey mumbled, biting her lip.
“Well...we could hide him at his house and bring the necessary medical supplies there,” Dylan suggested.
Kelsey shook her head. “Not good enough. They'll find him. I...I know a really good place,” she offered with a questioning look at Sandra.
Sandra stiffened visibly but nodded. “Yeah Kelsey I know where you're talking about. That's fine.”
“Then let's get him there quick!” Dylan urged.
“It's quite a trek from here but it's a good place to hide someone. I-I used to go there a lot.”
“I'll go to Mark's house then and get some of his stuff,” Catherine volunteered. “But I have no idea where the house is so if Kelsey or Sandra could go with me that would be really helpful.”
“I'll go,” Kelsey offered, trying to hide the reluctance in her voice.
Catherine flashed her a bright smile. “Thank you!”
Dylan bent down and picked Mark up gently. “Good thing he doesn't weigh much,” he told the others, though grunting slightly as he straightened. “Ok Sandra, lead the way."
Chapter 14:
The hike through the woods was long and for Dylan who was carrying Mark's full weight, simply exhausting. Frank slipped several times but courageously pressed on and Finally they arrived. They were completely surrounded by thick woods. Tall trees stood silently watching, branches swaying slightly overhead in a small breeze. The leaves blocked out the harsh light of the afternoon sun. Not far away though out of sight, a creek could be heard bubbling and foaming as it traveled along. Sandra halted, peering up at the overhang of sheer rock face in front of them. Against it were green bushes growing thickly. Some still held the remnants of berries, ones the birds still hadn't plucked.
“This is it?” Dylan asked, panting and slightly confused at the scene. Though it was an overhang there were only a few inches of protected ground. His heart sank.
“No this is,” Sandra replied, hurrying over to where the bushes were the most dense. Parting them with her hands she revealed a hole in the rock, looking like a cave entrance. Sandra knocked three times on the rock and grinned sheepishly, pausing before knocking three more times.
“Does someone live here?” Dylan asked, his eyes widening. He shifted Mark to a more comfortable position and the pilot's arm fell limply, dangling from his shoulder. Dylan sighed.
Sandra shook her head. “No, but we...or I , have to keep up the tradition. I used to come here when I was little.” Using her phone she used the light to peer inside before cautiously entering the enclosure. “No snakes, we're good!” she called a minute later.
It took several minutes to ease Mark thought the entrance and for Frank to enter as well. Dylan ducked his head and stepped in. He glanced around the dark interior trying to get a feel for how big the space was. Sandra had found some candles and matches and lit them, allowing them to see without the phone.
Dylan whistled in surprise. It was a small hollowed out cave of sorts. A dusty cot with a red and white checkered quilt lay in the far corner to his left. On the wall to Dylan's right, crudely carved into the rock was a row of shelves, each holding various items which looked like they hadn't been handled in a very long time. On the floor was a circular braided rug, faded red in color. A tiny table and folding chairs were nestled in the near right corner, also dusty. Atop the surface of the table was a jar with long since wilted flowers. Beside it was a picture frame, the picture itself covered with brown dust. Sandra hurried over to it and lay the item face down so that it could not be seen.
“This is pretty nice,” Dylan exclaimed as he lay Mark gently onto the cot and shook out the quilt outside so the dust wouldn't make everyone cough. Then he lay it over the senseless pilot. Bella padded over to the cot and lay down beside it protectively, her pink tongue hanging out of her mouth as she panted from the long trek.
Dylan placed his hand on Mark's forehead. “I take it there's no medical supplies in here but we're going to need some. Mark doesn't look so good right now,” he admitted as he placed his hand on Mark's forehead. It was feverishly hot.
“Nope,” Sandra agreed, referring to Dylan's first statement. “No medical supplies, just a lot of memories. Mostly...” she hesitated. “Oh never mind. Kelsey and I used to spend a lot of time here. Now, if you two are finished with me I'm going outside.”
Dylan looked puzzled at her strange behavior but said nothing to her. Sandra waited a minute but then left without another word. Dylan sighed and turned to Frank who had sat down in one of the chairs. “I think she's still mad at me from earlier,” he mumbled.
Frank nodded his head. “You really upset her. But I don't think it's just that anymore. Sandra's had a pretty bad past.”
Dylan sat in the other chair and eyed Frank intently. “Really? How so?” he wondered aloud.
Hesitating slightly, Frank picked up the picture frame and rubbed away the dust covering the photograph before handing it to Dylan. He saw a young man of about twenty seven years of age with dark brown hair and sparkling brown eyes to match. He was smiling. Beside him was a very beautiful young woman, also with brown hair that reached to her elbows in long graceful waves. Between the two was an adorable little girl of about three or four with golden ringlets and deep sea blue eyes just grinning away. Dylan lifted his eyes from the picture and gave Frank a questioning look.
“That is a picture of Sandra's family...two years before everything changed,” Frank explained with a heavy sigh.
Dylan's eyes saddened as he caught Frank's mood and the dawn of realization set in. “T-they died didn't they?” he asked quietly as he set the photo down the way Sandra had left it with almost a reverent touch.
Frank stared at his shoes. “Yeah. Late one night they were driving home and a drunk driver hit them head on. Sandra had been lying on the back seat asleep...and that's the only reason she is here today. Both her parents sustained critical injuries. Her dad...” Frank paused, trying to steady his voice which had begun to shake with emotion. “Her dad bled out in front of her eyes and was dead by the time help arrived.”
Dylan stood up and paced the little room, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty. “And I...oh man I feel terrible. I-I shouldn't have yelled at her.”
“Y-you didn't know,” Frank tried to reason with him. “Her mom lapsed into a coma. Both she and Sandra were taken to the hospital. There were no relatives at all. The docs...they put her mom on life support but when they realized the grim situation and how little chance there was of her ever waking up t-they pulled the plug. Sandra was sent to an orphanage which was where Kelsey and I met her. Our house backed up to it. She and Kelsey became friends but you would not believe how sad and shy that little girl was. The orphanage workers abused her, we found out later. She found a way to sneak out sometimes and I guess this is where they went. Kelsey and Sandra both would disappear for hours at a time. They used to pretend they were sisters.”
Dylan bowed his head in shame. “I feel awful.”
Frank nodded. “Me too. Kelsey used to tell me she'd often find Sandra alone, crying. She always said Sandra would try not to cry around her but sometimes she couldn't help it.” Frank took a deep breath. “Well, now you know her story.”
“I guess I have some apologies to make,” Dylan decided. “I-I shouldn't have gotten angry with her. I thought she didn't care about Mark. I hate not being in control...I guess that's no excuse but I was just trying to protect the only family I have."
A little while later, Catherine and Kelsey returned with heavy backpacks strapped to their backs and a large box of supplies each which they carried in their hands. Shuffling into the cave, both girls breathed a sigh of relief. “Phew!” Kelsey exclaimed, setting down her box with a grunt and wiping the sweat from her face with the back of her hand. “That was quite a workout!”
“Good job you two,” Dylan praised, glancing over the box's contents and giving them an approving smile.
“Thanks. We got his laptop, pajamas, food, medical supplies and a few other things. We could last ages in here now!” Catherine replied, wearily plopping down in the seat Dylan had vacated.
“Yeah. Most of this can go on the shelf,” Kelsey told the others as she began placing items on it.
“Walk me through some of the medical supplies you brought,” Dylan urged as he helped Kelsey put up the items.
“IV bags, painkillers, sedative, fever reducers, bandages, defibrillator, and oxygen,” Kelsey rattled off the list.
“Good, good,” Dylan praised. “Let's get the incision site where he pulled the drain out stitched up and get him on some fever reducer, pain meds and oxygen.”
“Well that wasn't all we brought,” Kelsey admitted. “I'll stitch him up if you want to do the other stuff,” Kelsey offered as she carefully injected a local anesthetic into Mark and began to clean and stitch up the wound.
Dylan got him hooked up to the IV and started his medicine before gently easing the mask onto the pilot's face. “Well, I guess that's about all we can do for now. Frank, if you and Kelsey can keep an eye on Mark here, I have something I need to do.”
“Yes of course,” Frank agreed readily, knowing what Dylan was up to. “Take your time, we'll be fine,” he promised.
Dylan nodded and slipped out of the cave. Using his ears he listened for the sound of the creek, making a mental map in his head so he wouldn't lose the cave should he need to head back alone. The water source wasn't a long distance away. Peering through the numerous forest trees, he spotted an unnatural color by the swiftly flowing water and knew he had found Sandra. Walking softly over the fallen leaves and pine needles, he studied her for a second.
Sandra had her back to him and was sitting on a rock, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her golden hair was no longer in a ponytail, instead, it flowed around her back and shoulders in long, cascading waves. She didn't appear to be crying, but then again, Dylan had never seen her cry before. He changed his direction to approach her from the side so he wouldn't scare her. She seemed lost in her thoughts, gazing absently at the rippling creek and didn't notice him. Dylan sighed, upset at the fact that he had made her so.
“Hey Sandra?” he called softly, announcing his presence after he had given her ample time to 'discover him herself'.
Sandra's head jerked up and she immediately turned her body to face his direction. Her body language told him she had tensed up at the sight of him and he figured she was still mad, or at least upset. “What do you need?” she asked him with a slight hint of coldness.
Dylan stepped closer, pointing to a rock beside her, gray and slightly damp from water spraying onto it and drying in the tiny clearing around them. “Do you mind?” he asked gently. Sandra only shrugged a consent and turned back to the water. Sitting down beside her, Dylan remained quiet for several minutes, gathering his thoughts. Finally he took a deep breath. “Hey...” he began.
Sandra turned to him, expressionless. “Yes?” she asked without a hint of emotion.
“Sandra...I just wanted to apologize. What I did was wrong. All those things I said to you earlier, I'm sorry. I just hate not being in control and I was quickly losing control of the situation. I panicked. Mark is the only family I have and I was just trying to protect him. But that's no excuse for hurting him and I am so sorry. I didn't realize about you...” Dylan's voice trailed off uncertainly.
Turning back to the water to gather herself together, Sandra remained quiet for a moment. Finally she heaved a heavy sigh. “Who told you?” she asked, her voice low.
“Frank did. I-I'm sorry if you didn't want...”
Sandra cut him off. “I knew this would happen eventually. Don't worry about it, don't worry about me. I'm fine.” she quickly looked the opposite way. “It's not a very happy story,” she continued after another moment of silence.
Dylan reached out a hand to put it comfortingly on her shoulder. It hovered just above her before he shook his head, changed his mind and took it away. “It may start sad but it has a happy ending. Again, Sandra, I just wanted to apologize,” he repeated. “I'm truly sorry.”
“I know you are,” Sandra answered quietly, still facing away from him. “I forgive you. But what do you mean it has a happy ending?”
Inwardly, Dylan sighed with relief. “Look at your life now,” he suggested.
“Yeah, sitting outside my old hideout fearing for my life with my best friend fired,” Sandra mumbled.
“No, I mean all the friends you've made and the people you've helped and the lives you've saved,” Dylan replied.
Sandra smiled faintly, finally looking his way again. She seemed sad, but not upset any more. “Thank you. I needed that. I guess I have made a lot of new friends, especially since you and everyone came over from England,” she contemplated.
“You see, there's always a silver lining,” Dylan returned.
“Not always Dylan but maybe in this case,” Sandra answered.
“So we're good?” Dylan asked, still not quite sure if she had fully forgiven him.
“Yes,” Sandra answered.
“Well thanks. That means a lot. I hope we can still be friends after everything I did.”
“Of course. I'll always be loyal no matter what,” Sandra replied, ever so slightly shocked he would mention such a thing.
“You're a good friend Sandra,” Dylan smiled gently as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. “I probably need to check back up on the others. Care to come along?” he offered his hand to her.
“Thank you, I think I will,” she agreed, ignoring his hand and standing up on her own. “I don't need help but thanks for the gesture. Let's go shall we?”
Meanwhile, back in the cave, Kelsey was finishing up putting away some forgotten items when the sound of Catherine's slight giggle grabbed her attention. Catherine was still sitting in the chair, looking intently at Mark's laptop. Her eyes were filled with tears but she was laughing. Puzzled, Kelsey stepped over. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, glancing at the screen.
Catherine paused the video she had been watching. “I found more,” she explained. “Apparently Mark made quite a few of them. I...I never knew this side of him.” She turned the video back to the beginning and pressed play so that Kelsey could watch. Frank came over and stood next to his daughter. “This is how I remember him,” he told the others quietly, immediately recognizing it.
“Holbrook here, McCalister and I are bored to death,” Mark was saying, his face filled with mischievous excitement. The camera was trained on his face but panned out to an unusual sight behind him as Mark continued talking. “Cobolt training is excessively dull so we've built a rocket that'll bust us out of here.” Mark's grin widened as he turned to a crude looking rocket sitting in a ditch. A man in a sleeveless shirt and shorts was standing next to it with a lighter. “Ok McCalister, light 'er up!” Mark yelled to him.
The man, McCalister, bent down behind the rocket and lit the fuse before scrambling out of the ditch and joining Mark. The rocket remained motionless for a moment but then lifted. Sadly, the lift wasn't high enough and it went haywire, barreling straight for the person behind the camera, Mark, and his companion. “Oh...” any other words were cut off as the man behind the camera took a nosedive and the camera hit the dirt with a smack, the screen going black. An instant later, an explosion could be heard. Someone picked up the camera. “They're gonna kill us!” Mark yelled before the video ended.
Catherine wiped her eyes, still laughing. “Goodness he must have been a handful!”
Both Frank and Kelsey were holding their sides, trying not to laugh too loud and disturb Mark. “I agree,” Kelsey giggled.
Frank grinned. “Yeah I remember that day. All three of them got in big trouble.”
“Who's McCalister?” Kelsey asked curiously.
“One of Mark's buddies, according to one of the files I read,” Catherine answered. “He was part of the strike team...killed when they were ambushed,” she finished as a solemn mood once again fell over them.
“Oh, sorry I asked,” Kelsey sighed.
“It's ok, I didn't know either. Let's watch this one,” Catherine suggested as she clicked on another video.
Mark was holding the camera, obviously in his lap, up at his face. His expression looked tired and weak. “Holbrook here. I'm not really supposed to be doing this, but what do they expect when I'm forced to sit here day in and day out doing nothing? I'm bored! I can't really sleep either. Still feel like one of those Black Ring thugs are gonna come and get me. I know they aren't all gone. Kazime was just a start. They'll come after me, I know they will. That's why they had to kill all those agents. They have most of the information but none of it is complete without the chip in me. I'm done with the RAF when I get out of this bloody hospital. There is no way I can fly for them again. Guess my dad was right. I'm a nobody and now this bloody chip has clipped my wings forever.” A tear slipped down Mark's cheek and landed unnoticed on the camera lens. “Think I hear Frank coming. Signing off.” With that, the video ended.
“I only left him for a few minutes at a time. Sneaky little chap,” Frank mumbled.
“I remember that day,” Catherine sighed. “The day Dad told him that he was a nobody. Beat him so badly we had to take him to the hospital.”
Frank winced. “Mark never talked about his childhood to anyone, including me.”
“Yeah, it was pretty rough,” Catherine murmured, half to herself.
Just then, Mark's eyes fluttered open and he gazed lazily around the room, taking in his new surroundings. Frank limped over to him and sat down on the old wooden chair. “Hey buddy,” he greeted softly. “Doing ok? We moved you to Sandra's cave so you wouldn't be bothered by everything that's going on at the hospital,” he explained.
Mark's hand immediately went to his oxygen mask as he tried to pry it off so that he could talk. Frank gently restrained him and the pilot began to talk frantically and rapidly despite the mask. “Hang on buddy,” Frank urged as he lifted the contraption from Mark's face and took it off so his friend could talk. “What's wrong?” he asked.
Desperately, Mark grabbed Frank's wrist. “I h-have to go! I have t-to g-go!” he cried.
“You can't go Mark. You're safe here out in the middle of nowhere,” Frank tried to explain.
Dylan and Sandra returned to the cave at that moment, but wisely decided to stay quiet in the corner and let Frank try to calm Mark down before they intervened but at the moment, Mark was having none of it.
“N-no I have t-to end this. They will h-hunt me down forever a-and you guys will always b-be in danger,” Mark replied weakly.
“Mark listen,” Frank urged gently. “I know how you feel. But you can't do anything in your position. You'd die or be killed so fast it would make your head swim. Wait till you recover a bit and get your strength back. You're no help to anyone if you're dead.”
“B-but...b-but...” Mark's voice trailed off as he gasped for air.
Frank swiftly but carefully replaced the mask back onto Mark's face. “How can you fight anyone when you can't even breathe without the oxygen?” Frank reminded gently. “Just take it easy pal.” Mark shook his head and turned away from Frank so he couldn't see the tears of helplessness in his eyes. Frank's heart went out to the young man. “Mark I know it's hard, but you've gotta trust me ok? I'm just looking out for your best interests I promise.”
Mark pulled the mask off with a trembling hand. “B-but I'm a n-nobody!”
“You can't believe everything you hear Mark,” Frank answered softly. “We both know that isn't true. Mark I wouldn't be here alive today if it hadn't been for you. You're my best friend.” Mark slowly turned his head back to look at his friend as Frank continued. “Mark you're like a son to me. The son I never had. I am so honored to be a part of your life.”
With all his remaining strength, Mark pushed himself up shakily on one elbow. “And you're the father I never had,” he whispered, tears rolling freely down his face.
Frank instantly leaned forward and gave Mark a gentle, comforting hug, trying to hold back tears of his own. “I do my best. I just don't want you getting hurt. Mark if I lost you...my life would never be the same,” he added, settling back down in his chair.
“I-I'm sorry,” Mark murmured as his arm gave out and he collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. He struggled to pull in deep, steady breaths.
Carefully, Frank replaced the mask back onto Mark's face for a second time. “You're forgiven Mark. Now get some rest. I know you're tired.” To Frank's great relief, Mark's eyes slipped closed and he fell quickly asleep without another word.
In the opposite corner of the cave, Dylan and Sandra had been quietly conversing. “I hate to say this,” Sandra was saying, “but Carmen is going to be livid when she finds out we're gone. Maybe it's a good thing after all that Kelsey was fired. She won't be noticed missing and she's an amazing doc.”
“I was thinking about that,” Dylan admitted. “I mean Kelsey and I can stay here. Even if I did get fired I still have a job as a pilot. The hospital is all you have, Sandra. I figured that maybe you and Catherine could go back and you girls could play off the fact that Mark went missing. That will keep the police off our tails for a while and it'll keep you from getting fired. Kelsey and I can handle any emergencies that we may have here.”
“What about when they ask about you?” Sandra asked, unsure.
“Tell them I went looking for Mark. It is true,” he added.
Sandra sighed. “What other choice do we have? Fine, I'll go. Catherine you ready? We need to hurry because it's going to be dark pretty soon.”
“Yep Let's head out,” Catherine answered as she stood up and followed Sandra out. “See you guys later. Be safe,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing.
Dylan said goodbye before picking up the chair at the tiny table and bringing it over to Mark's cot next to Frank. Sitting down with a grunt, he glanced at the elderly man. “How is he?” he asked, not realizing Frank was asleep until that moment.
Frank jerked awake. “Huh? Oh sorry. He's doing ok,” he answered.
“Good. I think I want him to try and eat something this evening,” Dylan decided.
“Well he did eat a cheese sandwich earlier but that's really not the best on an empty stomach,” Frank sighed.
“Tell me about it,” Dylan replied. “I was thinking some broth and maybe part of a meal replacement shake.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Frank agreed. “Someone,” he glanced at Kelsey, “told me you were a good cook.”
Kelsey quickly turned away, blushing furiously. Dylan pretended not to notice. “Don't worry, I'll make us something a bit more appetizing,” he promised.
“Well don't bite off more than you can chew,” Kelsey returned, having recovered from her embarrassment. “There is no cook stove in here.”
Dylan grinned and pulled the Bunsen burner that Catherine had brought out of a box and set it up. Opening a can of soup, he began to heat it over the flame before taking one of the shakes off the shelf. “Frank you'll more than likely be the one who convinces him to eat though I'll try to coax him as well,” he announced.
Frank simply nodded. A few minutes later, Mark's meal was done. Frank lay a hand on the sleeping pilot's shoulder as he tried to rouse him. Mark opened his eyes and glanced at the food before turning his head away from the sight of it. “Mark, just try it,” Frank urged. “It can't be that bad.”
Mark pulled the mask off so he could talk. “My s-stomach...would beg...to differ,” he answered.
“The soup shouldn't be a problem. Can you try a bit?” Frank asked hopefully.
“Yeah. Come on Mark, just a little bit,” Dylan urged as he tipped Mark's head up a bit and placed a spoon filled with the warm liquid to the pilot's lips. To his relief, Mark drank a few sips.
“Good job Mark,” Frank praised after a minute.
Mark pulled back. “N-no more,” he gasped.
“That was enough for now,” Frank assured him. “We can try again later.”
“Come on Mark,” Dylan countered. “Just a little bit more. “You aren't on the diet supplements now that you're off the feeding tube.”
“I-I can't!” Mark replied.
“Mark take one more sip, then wait a minute and try another,” Frank encouraged. Mark shook his head and turned away again. Frank sighed quietly. “Dylan I think he needs a break,” he admitted.
“He's got to eat something,” Dylan replied. “He's no longer receiving nourishment from the supplements and he's so weak. He won't last long if we don't get some food into him.”
“Couldn't we just give him something for the nausea?” Kelsey broke in.
Frank and Dylan both exchanged looks that meant 'I couldn't believe we didn't think of this before'. “Yeah that would be best.”
Kelsey quickly administered the antimetics into Mark's IV. “There! That should help.”
“Ok Mark, ready to try a little of the shake?” Dylan asked a few minutes later. Mark shook his head, turning away again.
“Come on Mark,” Frank coaxed. “Just a little. I'll try it first, tell you how it tastes if you want,” he offered.
“No! Now leave m-me alone!” Mark yelled weakly, yanking his covers over him and rolling onto his side to face fully away from them.
Frank sighed. “Dylan I really think he needs to rest. We shouldn't push him like this.”
“Fine, ok,” Dylan agreed reluctantly. “I think we all need sleep.”
“Yeah I feel like I could fall asleep any minute. Mark we'll let you rest now ok?” Mark only buried himself further under the covers.
“I can stay up and watch him,” Kelsey offered.
“No I will,” Dylan told her. “You go to sleep. I'll call you if I need you I promise.”
Chapter 15: Triumph and Tragedy
While Frank and the others had been trying to convince Mark to eat, Sandra and Catherine were having a little conversation of their own. “It's so beautiful out here,” Catherine noted, glancing around at the tall stout trees surrounding them, their leafy branches shielding them from the late afternoon sun.
“It is,” Sandra agreed, sighing some relief of tension away. “This is the only place I could go when I was little to keep from being beaten up. I hid little trinkets and things I found everywhere. They're probably still here,” she mused.
“So what should we do?” Catherine asked, bringing the conversation back to the crisis at hand. “Just whip up a couple of fake tears and a false story of how we've been out looking for him? Theoretically it's true, we'll just have to leave out the part that we found him.”
Sandra nodded slowly. “Yeah I guess. I can't believe I'm being forced to withhold information from the police but I don't know what else to do,” she sighed. “What will we say about the others?”
“That they're still out looking. Frank and Kelsey don't work at the hospital so it shouldn't be much of a problem. Dylan apparently doesn't mind being fired.”
“Well I just hope we don't have to lie,” Sandra mumbled as they passed the rest of the trek in silence.
About half an hour later the two girls arrived back at the hospital. “Here we are,” Sandra announced with a nervous glance at Sandra.
“Hey! That's them!” Callahan yelled as he and Carmen hurried over. “Where have you been and where are the rest of you?” he demanded.
“We've all been searching for Mark,” Sandra replied promptly, with confidence.
“Oh please you have to find my brother please!” Catherine chimed in with convincing sobs. She was actually crying.
“We are doing everything we can to find him,” Callahan assured her. “Now I understand the actual owner of this hospital is not here? Carmen said she was in charge.”
“Yes,” Sandra agreed.
“I've been talking with her,” Callahan went on. “She doesn't seem to know much except that he has been having panic attacks constantly. Do you happen to know anyone or anything that may have triggered them?”
“He has PTSD,” Sandra answered.
“I assume you know who may have kidnapped him?” Callahan asked.
“Kidnapped?! What are you talking about?!” Sandra burst into tears of her own, using her own tiredness to her advantage. “I'm supposed to be taking care of him! I don't know what to do!”
“Ma'am we are doing everything we can. We've been through the security tapes. We have reason to believe that the real owner of this hospital may have been a part of this.”
“A woman named Lillian owns the hospital,” Sandra told him.
“Do you know any reason why she would be against him?” Callahan pressed.
“Lillian can be...rather difficult to get along with. She fired my best friend!”
“Since she seems to be involved in severely illegal activities, she can no longer be allowed to run this hospital. I will let you clear that up with whoever needs to be reinstated as boss,” Callahan replied.
Sandra hesitated. “I guess that would be Carmen. Lillian hired her.”
“Hang on. From what I've heard, Carmen isn't fit to run this place. I've been looking into this while my men and you were out searching. Kelsey has been praised highly here. I realize Lillian also hired her but Carmen has been getting many complaints. Therefore any decisions she has made are now invalid. Your friend is to be reinstated as owner. Let this be some good news in such dark times,” Callahan answered.
Carmen gave everyone a dark look and stomped off without a word. “Thank you so much!” Sandra exclaimed excitedly.
“Oh my goodness this is fantastic!” Catherine agreed. “Sandra call her now and tell her!”
Sandra was grinning from ear to ear. “I will. She's going to flip!” She dialed the number as Callahan excused himself and went back to his work.
Kelsey grabbed her phone a minute later as it rang. She quickly answered and the others in the small hideout could hear her voice rise with mounting excitement. She gave a small squeal of delight. “Really?! That's fantastic! I'm so happy!” After a few minutes of exuberant talking, Kelsey hung up. “Carmen's been fired since Lillian isn't in a position of command anymore so I have my job back and I own the hospital now!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Dylan grinned broadly despite his tiredness. “Really! Kelsey that's wonderful!”
“I know! I can't believe this!” Kelsey exclaimed as she hurried over to her dad and gave him a hug. Frank grinned and echoed Dylan's congratulations.
“Shh,” Dylan warned softly as the two got a bit loud. “Mark needs his rest. He's finally asleep.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Kelsey apologized hastily. “It's just hard to be quiet when you have such good news,” she added, lowering her voice.
“You can tell Mark in the morning but for now we need our sleep,” Dylan urged.
“But now I'm too excited to sleep!” Kelsey grinned, prompting Dylan to chuckle in response.
“Well I for one need my rest so I'l just take a nap on this sleeping bag,” he told her as he rolled out the object and lay down. His eyes closed and he quickly fell asleep as Kelsey pulled a chair over to Frank and sat down beside him, quietly watching Mark.
Back at the hospital, Catherine was pulling Sandra aside. “I think we should dig up all we can while we're here,” she suggested.
“Good idea,” Sandra agreed. “We can do that in the office. Come on!”
Both girls headed to their destination only to find Carmen sitting at the desk in the office. She looked up in annoyance as she heard the two come in. “How dare you!” she gasped. “This office is off limits to you!”
To Sandra's amazement, Catherine waltzed over to the desk and grabbed Carmen by her shirt collar. Her other fist was clenched as if she were about to strike though it was down by her side. “Listen here dearie,” she began in a sickeningly sweet sarcastic tone. “Now that you are no longer in charge you have no right to tell us what and what not to do. Get out of the chair,” she ordered.
“I don't care what some dumb officer said. I run this place,” Carmen shot back.
“Shall I take that as a no then?” Catherine asked, bringing her fist back like she was going to punch Carmen.
Carmen slowly stood to her feet, keeping her chin held high. “I suppose I could let you sit,” she answered with a very cold tone.
Catherine ushered her to the other side of the desk. “Now that you are no longer in charge I'm going to let you in on a few things. Lillian is a liar and an international spy. My brother Mark is carrying classified British information that could very well ruin the entire country if it fell into the wrong hands.”
Sandra gasped in astonishment and nudged her friend. “Catherine! Shhh!”
“Kelsey cannot run this hospital. She is incapable,” Carmen remarked, not really thinking of anything else.
“I don't care what you think,” Catherine shot back, mad. “She IS in charge now and you can do nothing about it. I'll also have you know that my brother was trained by MI6 and he taught me everything he knew fighting wise so you better decide which side you're on. You're either for us or against us. Either way, my baby brother is in danger and I will do anything to protect him.”
“You're not worth my time,” Carmen sniffed haughtily. “I'm out of here.” She walked out without another word.
“Ugh! What a repulsive woman,” Catherine huffed as Sandra sat down at the vacated chair and began typing something into the computer's search engine. Catherine pulled up another chair to watch.
A little later, Sandra pulled up a website. “Oh my!” she gasped.
“What? What is it?!” Catherine asked.
“She must be using a fake name. There's no records of her anywhere!”
“You should try to find out all you can about when she started working here,” Catherine suggested.
“It says here that she became owner under mysterious circumstances...something about a strange disappearance...nothing seems legit. She seems to have a lot of influence...owns a wide range of companies...stuff like that. Oh! Here's a picture!” Sandra pulled up the image.
“Wow...looks like she may have died her hair that blonde color. Her roots are nearly black.” The two girls continued to dig for information. Sadly they couldn't find much else about Lillian or her past.
Back in the little cave, Mark moaned and restlessly thrashed the covers off of his sweat-soaked body, panting like he had just run a marathon. Frank woke up and sighed. “Shh Mark, it's ok,” he assured his friend, trying to soothe him. He injected another fever reducer into the man's IV.
Dylan woke up at the ruckus Frank had made, his movements still clumsy from his knee. and sat up, yawning before getting to his feet and making his way over to Mark. “Can you get a thermometer?” he asked softly, trying to to rile Mark further or wake up Kelsey who had finally fallen asleep.
Frank fetched the needed item and handed it to Dylan who stuck it under Mark's arm. “I'm afraid his temperature is rising,” the elderly man sighed. “How bad is it?”
“104.5,” Dylan told him a minute later. “That's the highest it's ever been.”
“Why do you think it's so high? I hope his infection isn't returning,” Frank replied, wincing at the dangerously high number.
“It may just be from all the stress he's under but we have to do something to get it down. Here, help me get him up please. Oh wait...you can't, your knee. Kelsey?” Dylan called to the sleeping form in the corner.
Kelsey woke up nearly instantly and walked over to Mark, trying to stifle a yawn. Dylan told her what was going on and the young doctor bent over Mark, trying to rouse him a bit. “Mark? Buddy, nap time's over. It's time to get up,” she called softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the heat rising from his body.
It took Mark a minute but he finally managed to drag his eyes open. “Huh? Wha'? 'M late...flight left in five minutes...” he mumbled, slurring so badly Kelsey could hardly understand what he had said.
“Mark it's ok, you're not late for any flight,” Kelsey assured him gently.
Mark seemed completely confused. “Huh?” his head lolled to the side and his eyes began to close again as he started to fall back asleep.
Kelsey nudged him again. “Come on Mark, Dylan wants you up.” Mark responded by groaning as his eyes opened slightly again. “That's it Mark,” Kelsey assured him. “Dylan, what were you wanting to do?”
Dylan had fetched a basin of water and was laying a cool, damp cloth over Mark's feverish forehead. “It's like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Do you think there's a wash basin or something around here that we can fill with water and put him in?” he asked, looking around.
After a moment of thinking, Kelsey shook her head sadly. “I don't think so. But there's always the creek though I hope the shock of the cold water won't do more harm than good.”
“I guess we could try it...” Dylan slowly agreed. “Catherine did bring him an extra set of clothes. Alright, let's do this. Kelsey can you help me carry him?” he asked as he gently tugged the oxygen mask off of Mark's mouth and nose.
Kelsey agreed and together they lifted Mark off the bed. The pilot had fallen asleep again and was practically limp in their arms. The two struggled to get him outside to the creek. Setting him in the shallow water was no easy task but they managed. “Sure hope this works,” Kelsey sighed, watching Mark sway in the current as Dylan held his head and shoulders above the water.
“I hope so too,” Dylan admitted. “It'll be nice for him to have a bath, though with no soap.”
Watching him in silence a few seconds longer, Kelsey's face turned a bit worried. “I can't believe he hasn't woken up! The water's pretty cold.”
“I know,” Dylan answered, his face a little pale. “This is really concerning. He seemed pretty out of it too when you tried to wake him up earlier.”
Almost as if he had heard them, Mark suddenly tensed, flinching at the water temperature and began to shiver violently. Kelsey was by him in half a second. “Hey Mark, so sorry about the rude awakening. Are you cold?” she asked with a worried glance at Dylan.
Mark managed to nod and whimper a bit in reply, his shaking hands tugging on Dylan's as he tried to draw in a breath. “Hang on Mark, just a bit longer. We're trying to get your fever down.” Dylan explained in a soothing voice. Mark didn't have the strength to fight much longer and let Dylan continue to keep him in the water without a struggle. A few seconds later, Dylan looked over at Kelsey. “He's been in long enough. Help me get him out please.”
Kelsey and Dylan hoisted Mark out of the water and brought him back to the cave. “I'll step out and pick some berries while you get him in dry clothes,” Kelsey told the three men as she picked up a container and ducked out the opening into the outdoors again, filled with worry about her friend who was once again hanging in the balance between life and death.
About half an hour later, the phone suddenly rang at the Silver Springs Hospital. Sandra snatched it up as it was a call for the hospital. “H-hello?” a panicky voice sounded over the phone. “Please help! I-I tripped and I think m-my ankle's broken. P-please send help!”
Sandra's mind immediately went to her nursing state. “Ok ma'am,” she answered, speaking slowly and clearly. “Can you tell me where you are?”
“O-over by the airfield. P-please hurry! Agh!” the elderly sounding woman cried out.
“We'll be right there,” Sandra assured her. “Catherine come on! We've got a call.”
“Broken ankle? Seriously?” Juhotta asked as he rolled his eyes, leaning up against Mark's beloved plane.
“Well would you rather me have said I broke my toe?” Lillian asked, laying on the ground. Her clothes had changed to that of an elderly woman's and she was wearing a gray wig that seemed to be itchy. “UGH! I hate this bloody costume. Make sure you do your part Juhotta. Sandra fell for it hook line and sinker. I hope she brought Mark's sister along. Make sure you just knock them out not kill them.”
The sound of an ambulance could now be heard echoing through the trees. “They're coming! Get behind the office now!” Lillian hissed as Juhotta took off behind the directed building. The ambulance pulled up a minute or two later and both Catherine and Sandra jumped out and hurried over. Lillian pushed her glasses back on in a clumsy sort of way and yelped in mock pain.
Lillian's daring plan couldn't have gone better. Sandra, full of concern had knelt down beside Lillian's foot and Catherine was looking over her shoulder as Juhotta sauntered over from around the corner and slammed the butt of his gun into Catherine's head. She slumped to the concrete without a sound. Sandra turned to look and managed to catch the evil grin on Juhotta's face before the gun struck her in the head too and knocked her out.
Jumping to her feet, Lillian was all smiles as she pulled off the offending wig. “Good work! Let's get them to the truck.” They each lifted one of the girls and hauled them to the hidden vehicle not far away. “We need to get out of here quick.”
Juhotta slammed the back of the van shut, jumped into the driver's seat and drove away, taking the girls far away from home to an unknown destination. No one knew they were gone, and no one was available to help. A few miles away, Mark lay at death's door, completely oblivious to the fact that two of the people he cared most about were lying helpless and alone in the back of a van in the very hands of the people who had nearly killed him. And that the kidnapping was only the beginning of their devilish plan to destroy both their lives and his.
“Good job you two,” Dylan praised, glancing over the box's contents and giving them an approving smile.
“Thanks. We got his laptop, pajamas, food, medical supplies and a few other things. We could last ages in here now!” Catherine replied, wearily plopping down in the seat Dylan had vacated.
“Yeah. Most of this can go on the shelf,” Kelsey told the others as she began placing items on it.
“Walk me through some of the medical supplies you brought,” Dylan urged as he helped Kelsey put up the items.
“IV bags, painkillers, sedative, fever reducers, bandages, defibrillator, and oxygen,” Kelsey rattled off the list.
“Good, good,” Dylan praised. “Let's get the incision site where he pulled the drain out stitched up and get him on some fever reducer, pain meds and oxygen.”
“Well that wasn't all we brought,” Kelsey admitted. “I'll stitch him up if you want to do the other stuff,” Kelsey offered as she carefully injected a local anesthetic into Mark and began to clean and stitch up the wound.
Dylan got him hooked up to the IV and started his medicine before gently easing the mask onto the pilot's face. “Well, I guess that's about all we can do for now. Frank, if you and Kelsey can keep an eye on Mark here, I have something I need to do.”
“Yes of course,” Frank agreed readily, knowing what Dylan was up to. “Take your time, we'll be fine,” he promised.
Dylan nodded and slipped out of the cave. Using his ears he listened for the sound of the creek, making a mental map in his head so he wouldn't lose the cave should he need to head back alone. The water source wasn't a long distance away. Peering through the numerous forest trees, he spotted an unnatural color by the swiftly flowing water and knew he had found Sandra. Walking softly over the fallen leaves and pine needles, he studied her for a second.
Sandra had her back to him and was sitting on a rock, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her golden hair was no longer in a ponytail, instead, it flowed around her back and shoulders in long, cascading waves. She didn't appear to be crying, but then again, Dylan had never seen her cry before. He changed his direction to approach her from the side so he wouldn't scare her. She seemed lost in her thoughts, gazing absently at the rippling creek and didn't notice him. Dylan sighed, upset at the fact that he had made her so.
“Hey Sandra?” he called softly, announcing his presence after he had given her ample time to 'discover him herself'.
Sandra's head jerked up and she immediately turned her body to face his direction. Her body language told him she had tensed up at the sight of him and he figured she was still mad, or at least upset. “What do you need?” she asked him with a slight hint of coldness.
Dylan stepped closer, pointing to a rock beside her, gray and slightly damp from water spraying onto it and drying in the tiny clearing around them. “Do you mind?” he asked gently. Sandra only shrugged a consent and turned back to the water. Sitting down beside her, Dylan remained quiet for several minutes, gathering his thoughts. Finally he took a deep breath. “Hey...” he began.
Sandra turned to him, expressionless. “Yes?” she asked without a hint of emotion.
“Sandra...I just wanted to apologize. What I did was wrong. All those things I said to you earlier, I'm sorry. I just hate not being in control and I was quickly losing control of the situation. I panicked. Mark is the only family I have and I was just trying to protect him. But that's no excuse for hurting him and I am so sorry. I didn't realize about you...” Dylan's voice trailed off uncertainly.
Turning back to the water to gather herself together, Sandra remained quiet for a moment. Finally she heaved a heavy sigh. “Who told you?” she asked, her voice low.
“Frank did. I-I'm sorry if you didn't want...”
Sandra cut him off. “I knew this would happen eventually. Don't worry about it, don't worry about me. I'm fine.” she quickly looked the opposite way. “It's not a very happy story,” she continued after another moment of silence.
Dylan reached out a hand to put it comfortingly on her shoulder. It hovered just above her before he shook his head, changed his mind and took it away. “It may start sad but it has a happy ending. Again, Sandra, I just wanted to apologize,” he repeated. “I'm truly sorry.”
“I know you are,” Sandra answered quietly, still facing away from him. “I forgive you. But what do you mean it has a happy ending?”
Inwardly, Dylan sighed with relief. “Look at your life now,” he suggested.
“Yeah, sitting outside my old hideout fearing for my life with my best friend fired,” Sandra mumbled.
“No, I mean all the friends you've made and the people you've helped and the lives you've saved,” Dylan replied.
Sandra smiled faintly, finally looking his way again. She seemed sad, but not upset any more. “Thank you. I needed that. I guess I have made a lot of new friends, especially since you and everyone came over from England,” she contemplated.
“You see, there's always a silver lining,” Dylan returned.
“Not always Dylan but maybe in this case,” Sandra answered.
“So we're good?” Dylan asked, still not quite sure if she had fully forgiven him.
“Yes,” Sandra answered.
“Well thanks. That means a lot. I hope we can still be friends after everything I did.”
“Of course. I'll always be loyal no matter what,” Sandra replied, ever so slightly shocked he would mention such a thing.
“You're a good friend Sandra,” Dylan smiled gently as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. “I probably need to check back up on the others. Care to come along?” he offered his hand to her.
“Thank you, I think I will,” she agreed, ignoring his hand and standing up on her own. “I don't need help but thanks for the gesture. Let's go shall we?”
Meanwhile, back in the cave, Kelsey was finishing up putting away some forgotten items when the sound of Catherine's slight giggle grabbed her attention. Catherine was still sitting in the chair, looking intently at Mark's laptop. Her eyes were filled with tears but she was laughing. Puzzled, Kelsey stepped over. “Whatcha doing?” she asked, glancing at the screen.
Catherine paused the video she had been watching. “I found more,” she explained. “Apparently Mark made quite a few of them. I...I never knew this side of him.” She turned the video back to the beginning and pressed play so that Kelsey could watch. Frank came over and stood next to his daughter. “This is how I remember him,” he told the others quietly, immediately recognizing it.
“Holbrook here, McCalister and I are bored to death,” Mark was saying, his face filled with mischievous excitement. The camera was trained on his face but panned out to an unusual sight behind him as Mark continued talking. “Cobolt training is excessively dull so we've built a rocket that'll bust us out of here.” Mark's grin widened as he turned to a crude looking rocket sitting in a ditch. A man in a sleeveless shirt and shorts was standing next to it with a lighter. “Ok McCalister, light 'er up!” Mark yelled to him.
The man, McCalister, bent down behind the rocket and lit the fuse before scrambling out of the ditch and joining Mark. The rocket remained motionless for a moment but then lifted. Sadly, the lift wasn't high enough and it went haywire, barreling straight for the person behind the camera, Mark, and his companion. “Oh...” any other words were cut off as the man behind the camera took a nosedive and the camera hit the dirt with a smack, the screen going black. An instant later, an explosion could be heard. Someone picked up the camera. “They're gonna kill us!” Mark yelled before the video ended.
Catherine wiped her eyes, still laughing. “Goodness he must have been a handful!”
Both Frank and Kelsey were holding their sides, trying not to laugh too loud and disturb Mark. “I agree,” Kelsey giggled.
Frank grinned. “Yeah I remember that day. All three of them got in big trouble.”
“Who's McCalister?” Kelsey asked curiously.
“One of Mark's buddies, according to one of the files I read,” Catherine answered. “He was part of the strike team...killed when they were ambushed,” she finished as a solemn mood once again fell over them.
“Oh, sorry I asked,” Kelsey sighed.
“It's ok, I didn't know either. Let's watch this one,” Catherine suggested as she clicked on another video.
Mark was holding the camera, obviously in his lap, up at his face. His expression looked tired and weak. “Holbrook here. I'm not really supposed to be doing this, but what do they expect when I'm forced to sit here day in and day out doing nothing? I'm bored! I can't really sleep either. Still feel like one of those Black Ring thugs are gonna come and get me. I know they aren't all gone. Kazime was just a start. They'll come after me, I know they will. That's why they had to kill all those agents. They have most of the information but none of it is complete without the chip in me. I'm done with the RAF when I get out of this bloody hospital. There is no way I can fly for them again. Guess my dad was right. I'm a nobody and now this bloody chip has clipped my wings forever.” A tear slipped down Mark's cheek and landed unnoticed on the camera lens. “Think I hear Frank coming. Signing off.” With that, the video ended.
“I only left him for a few minutes at a time. Sneaky little chap,” Frank mumbled.
“I remember that day,” Catherine sighed. “The day Dad told him that he was a nobody. Beat him so badly we had to take him to the hospital.”
Frank winced. “Mark never talked about his childhood to anyone, including me.”
“Yeah, it was pretty rough,” Catherine murmured, half to herself.
Just then, Mark's eyes fluttered open and he gazed lazily around the room, taking in his new surroundings. Frank limped over to him and sat down on the old wooden chair. “Hey buddy,” he greeted softly. “Doing ok? We moved you to Sandra's cave so you wouldn't be bothered by everything that's going on at the hospital,” he explained.
Mark's hand immediately went to his oxygen mask as he tried to pry it off so that he could talk. Frank gently restrained him and the pilot began to talk frantically and rapidly despite the mask. “Hang on buddy,” Frank urged as he lifted the contraption from Mark's face and took it off so his friend could talk. “What's wrong?” he asked.
Desperately, Mark grabbed Frank's wrist. “I h-have to go! I have t-to g-go!” he cried.
“You can't go Mark. You're safe here out in the middle of nowhere,” Frank tried to explain.
Dylan and Sandra returned to the cave at that moment, but wisely decided to stay quiet in the corner and let Frank try to calm Mark down before they intervened but at the moment, Mark was having none of it.
“N-no I have t-to end this. They will h-hunt me down forever a-and you guys will always b-be in danger,” Mark replied weakly.
“Mark listen,” Frank urged gently. “I know how you feel. But you can't do anything in your position. You'd die or be killed so fast it would make your head swim. Wait till you recover a bit and get your strength back. You're no help to anyone if you're dead.”
“B-but...b-but...” Mark's voice trailed off as he gasped for air.
Frank swiftly but carefully replaced the mask back onto Mark's face. “How can you fight anyone when you can't even breathe without the oxygen?” Frank reminded gently. “Just take it easy pal.” Mark shook his head and turned away from Frank so he couldn't see the tears of helplessness in his eyes. Frank's heart went out to the young man. “Mark I know it's hard, but you've gotta trust me ok? I'm just looking out for your best interests I promise.”
Mark pulled the mask off with a trembling hand. “B-but I'm a n-nobody!”
“You can't believe everything you hear Mark,” Frank answered softly. “We both know that isn't true. Mark I wouldn't be here alive today if it hadn't been for you. You're my best friend.” Mark slowly turned his head back to look at his friend as Frank continued. “Mark you're like a son to me. The son I never had. I am so honored to be a part of your life.”
With all his remaining strength, Mark pushed himself up shakily on one elbow. “And you're the father I never had,” he whispered, tears rolling freely down his face.
Frank instantly leaned forward and gave Mark a gentle, comforting hug, trying to hold back tears of his own. “I do my best. I just don't want you getting hurt. Mark if I lost you...my life would never be the same,” he added, settling back down in his chair.
“I-I'm sorry,” Mark murmured as his arm gave out and he collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. He struggled to pull in deep, steady breaths.
Carefully, Frank replaced the mask back onto Mark's face for a second time. “You're forgiven Mark. Now get some rest. I know you're tired.” To Frank's great relief, Mark's eyes slipped closed and he fell quickly asleep without another word.
In the opposite corner of the cave, Dylan and Sandra had been quietly conversing. “I hate to say this,” Sandra was saying, “but Carmen is going to be livid when she finds out we're gone. Maybe it's a good thing after all that Kelsey was fired. She won't be noticed missing and she's an amazing doc.”
“I was thinking about that,” Dylan admitted. “I mean Kelsey and I can stay here. Even if I did get fired I still have a job as a pilot. The hospital is all you have, Sandra. I figured that maybe you and Catherine could go back and you girls could play off the fact that Mark went missing. That will keep the police off our tails for a while and it'll keep you from getting fired. Kelsey and I can handle any emergencies that we may have here.”
“What about when they ask about you?” Sandra asked, unsure.
“Tell them I went looking for Mark. It is true,” he added.
Sandra sighed. “What other choice do we have? Fine, I'll go. Catherine you ready? We need to hurry because it's going to be dark pretty soon.”
“Yep Let's head out,” Catherine answered as she stood up and followed Sandra out. “See you guys later. Be safe,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing.
Dylan said goodbye before picking up the chair at the tiny table and bringing it over to Mark's cot next to Frank. Sitting down with a grunt, he glanced at the elderly man. “How is he?” he asked, not realizing Frank was asleep until that moment.
Frank jerked awake. “Huh? Oh sorry. He's doing ok,” he answered.
“Good. I think I want him to try and eat something this evening,” Dylan decided.
“Well he did eat a cheese sandwich earlier but that's really not the best on an empty stomach,” Frank sighed.
“Tell me about it,” Dylan replied. “I was thinking some broth and maybe part of a meal replacement shake.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Frank agreed. “Someone,” he glanced at Kelsey, “told me you were a good cook.”
Kelsey quickly turned away, blushing furiously. Dylan pretended not to notice. “Don't worry, I'll make us something a bit more appetizing,” he promised.
“Well don't bite off more than you can chew,” Kelsey returned, having recovered from her embarrassment. “There is no cook stove in here.”
Dylan grinned and pulled the Bunsen burner that Catherine had brought out of a box and set it up. Opening a can of soup, he began to heat it over the flame before taking one of the shakes off the shelf. “Frank you'll more than likely be the one who convinces him to eat though I'll try to coax him as well,” he announced.
Frank simply nodded. A few minutes later, Mark's meal was done. Frank lay a hand on the sleeping pilot's shoulder as he tried to rouse him. Mark opened his eyes and glanced at the food before turning his head away from the sight of it. “Mark, just try it,” Frank urged. “It can't be that bad.”
Mark pulled the mask off so he could talk. “My s-stomach...would beg...to differ,” he answered.
“The soup shouldn't be a problem. Can you try a bit?” Frank asked hopefully.
“Yeah. Come on Mark, just a little bit,” Dylan urged as he tipped Mark's head up a bit and placed a spoon filled with the warm liquid to the pilot's lips. To his relief, Mark drank a few sips.
“Good job Mark,” Frank praised after a minute.
Mark pulled back. “N-no more,” he gasped.
“That was enough for now,” Frank assured him. “We can try again later.”
“Come on Mark,” Dylan countered. “Just a little bit more. “You aren't on the diet supplements now that you're off the feeding tube.”
“I-I can't!” Mark replied.
“Mark take one more sip, then wait a minute and try another,” Frank encouraged. Mark shook his head and turned away again. Frank sighed quietly. “Dylan I think he needs a break,” he admitted.
“He's got to eat something,” Dylan replied. “He's no longer receiving nourishment from the supplements and he's so weak. He won't last long if we don't get some food into him.”
“Couldn't we just give him something for the nausea?” Kelsey broke in.
Frank and Dylan both exchanged looks that meant 'I couldn't believe we didn't think of this before'. “Yeah that would be best.”
Kelsey quickly administered the antimetics into Mark's IV. “There! That should help.”
“Ok Mark, ready to try a little of the shake?” Dylan asked a few minutes later. Mark shook his head, turning away again.
“Come on Mark,” Frank coaxed. “Just a little. I'll try it first, tell you how it tastes if you want,” he offered.
“No! Now leave m-me alone!” Mark yelled weakly, yanking his covers over him and rolling onto his side to face fully away from them.
Frank sighed. “Dylan I really think he needs to rest. We shouldn't push him like this.”
“Fine, ok,” Dylan agreed reluctantly. “I think we all need sleep.”
“Yeah I feel like I could fall asleep any minute. Mark we'll let you rest now ok?” Mark only buried himself further under the covers.
“I can stay up and watch him,” Kelsey offered.
“No I will,” Dylan told her. “You go to sleep. I'll call you if I need you I promise.”
Chapter 15: Triumph and Tragedy
While Frank and the others had been trying to convince Mark to eat, Sandra and Catherine were having a little conversation of their own. “It's so beautiful out here,” Catherine noted, glancing around at the tall stout trees surrounding them, their leafy branches shielding them from the late afternoon sun.
“It is,” Sandra agreed, sighing some relief of tension away. “This is the only place I could go when I was little to keep from being beaten up. I hid little trinkets and things I found everywhere. They're probably still here,” she mused.
“So what should we do?” Catherine asked, bringing the conversation back to the crisis at hand. “Just whip up a couple of fake tears and a false story of how we've been out looking for him? Theoretically it's true, we'll just have to leave out the part that we found him.”
Sandra nodded slowly. “Yeah I guess. I can't believe I'm being forced to withhold information from the police but I don't know what else to do,” she sighed. “What will we say about the others?”
“That they're still out looking. Frank and Kelsey don't work at the hospital so it shouldn't be much of a problem. Dylan apparently doesn't mind being fired.”
“Well I just hope we don't have to lie,” Sandra mumbled as they passed the rest of the trek in silence.
About half an hour later the two girls arrived back at the hospital. “Here we are,” Sandra announced with a nervous glance at Sandra.
“Hey! That's them!” Callahan yelled as he and Carmen hurried over. “Where have you been and where are the rest of you?” he demanded.
“We've all been searching for Mark,” Sandra replied promptly, with confidence.
“Oh please you have to find my brother please!” Catherine chimed in with convincing sobs. She was actually crying.
“We are doing everything we can to find him,” Callahan assured her. “Now I understand the actual owner of this hospital is not here? Carmen said she was in charge.”
“Yes,” Sandra agreed.
“I've been talking with her,” Callahan went on. “She doesn't seem to know much except that he has been having panic attacks constantly. Do you happen to know anyone or anything that may have triggered them?”
“He has PTSD,” Sandra answered.
“I assume you know who may have kidnapped him?” Callahan asked.
“Kidnapped?! What are you talking about?!” Sandra burst into tears of her own, using her own tiredness to her advantage. “I'm supposed to be taking care of him! I don't know what to do!”
“Ma'am we are doing everything we can. We've been through the security tapes. We have reason to believe that the real owner of this hospital may have been a part of this.”
“A woman named Lillian owns the hospital,” Sandra told him.
“Do you know any reason why she would be against him?” Callahan pressed.
“Lillian can be...rather difficult to get along with. She fired my best friend!”
“Since she seems to be involved in severely illegal activities, she can no longer be allowed to run this hospital. I will let you clear that up with whoever needs to be reinstated as boss,” Callahan replied.
Sandra hesitated. “I guess that would be Carmen. Lillian hired her.”
“Hang on. From what I've heard, Carmen isn't fit to run this place. I've been looking into this while my men and you were out searching. Kelsey has been praised highly here. I realize Lillian also hired her but Carmen has been getting many complaints. Therefore any decisions she has made are now invalid. Your friend is to be reinstated as owner. Let this be some good news in such dark times,” Callahan answered.
Carmen gave everyone a dark look and stomped off without a word. “Thank you so much!” Sandra exclaimed excitedly.
“Oh my goodness this is fantastic!” Catherine agreed. “Sandra call her now and tell her!”
Sandra was grinning from ear to ear. “I will. She's going to flip!” She dialed the number as Callahan excused himself and went back to his work.
Kelsey grabbed her phone a minute later as it rang. She quickly answered and the others in the small hideout could hear her voice rise with mounting excitement. She gave a small squeal of delight. “Really?! That's fantastic! I'm so happy!” After a few minutes of exuberant talking, Kelsey hung up. “Carmen's been fired since Lillian isn't in a position of command anymore so I have my job back and I own the hospital now!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Dylan grinned broadly despite his tiredness. “Really! Kelsey that's wonderful!”
“I know! I can't believe this!” Kelsey exclaimed as she hurried over to her dad and gave him a hug. Frank grinned and echoed Dylan's congratulations.
“Shh,” Dylan warned softly as the two got a bit loud. “Mark needs his rest. He's finally asleep.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Kelsey apologized hastily. “It's just hard to be quiet when you have such good news,” she added, lowering her voice.
“You can tell Mark in the morning but for now we need our sleep,” Dylan urged.
“But now I'm too excited to sleep!” Kelsey grinned, prompting Dylan to chuckle in response.
“Well I for one need my rest so I'l just take a nap on this sleeping bag,” he told her as he rolled out the object and lay down. His eyes closed and he quickly fell asleep as Kelsey pulled a chair over to Frank and sat down beside him, quietly watching Mark.
Back at the hospital, Catherine was pulling Sandra aside. “I think we should dig up all we can while we're here,” she suggested.
“Good idea,” Sandra agreed. “We can do that in the office. Come on!”
Both girls headed to their destination only to find Carmen sitting at the desk in the office. She looked up in annoyance as she heard the two come in. “How dare you!” she gasped. “This office is off limits to you!”
To Sandra's amazement, Catherine waltzed over to the desk and grabbed Carmen by her shirt collar. Her other fist was clenched as if she were about to strike though it was down by her side. “Listen here dearie,” she began in a sickeningly sweet sarcastic tone. “Now that you are no longer in charge you have no right to tell us what and what not to do. Get out of the chair,” she ordered.
“I don't care what some dumb officer said. I run this place,” Carmen shot back.
“Shall I take that as a no then?” Catherine asked, bringing her fist back like she was going to punch Carmen.
Carmen slowly stood to her feet, keeping her chin held high. “I suppose I could let you sit,” she answered with a very cold tone.
Catherine ushered her to the other side of the desk. “Now that you are no longer in charge I'm going to let you in on a few things. Lillian is a liar and an international spy. My brother Mark is carrying classified British information that could very well ruin the entire country if it fell into the wrong hands.”
Sandra gasped in astonishment and nudged her friend. “Catherine! Shhh!”
“Kelsey cannot run this hospital. She is incapable,” Carmen remarked, not really thinking of anything else.
“I don't care what you think,” Catherine shot back, mad. “She IS in charge now and you can do nothing about it. I'll also have you know that my brother was trained by MI6 and he taught me everything he knew fighting wise so you better decide which side you're on. You're either for us or against us. Either way, my baby brother is in danger and I will do anything to protect him.”
“You're not worth my time,” Carmen sniffed haughtily. “I'm out of here.” She walked out without another word.
“Ugh! What a repulsive woman,” Catherine huffed as Sandra sat down at the vacated chair and began typing something into the computer's search engine. Catherine pulled up another chair to watch.
A little later, Sandra pulled up a website. “Oh my!” she gasped.
“What? What is it?!” Catherine asked.
“She must be using a fake name. There's no records of her anywhere!”
“You should try to find out all you can about when she started working here,” Catherine suggested.
“It says here that she became owner under mysterious circumstances...something about a strange disappearance...nothing seems legit. She seems to have a lot of influence...owns a wide range of companies...stuff like that. Oh! Here's a picture!” Sandra pulled up the image.
“Wow...looks like she may have died her hair that blonde color. Her roots are nearly black.” The two girls continued to dig for information. Sadly they couldn't find much else about Lillian or her past.
Back in the little cave, Mark moaned and restlessly thrashed the covers off of his sweat-soaked body, panting like he had just run a marathon. Frank woke up and sighed. “Shh Mark, it's ok,” he assured his friend, trying to soothe him. He injected another fever reducer into the man's IV.
Dylan woke up at the ruckus Frank had made, his movements still clumsy from his knee. and sat up, yawning before getting to his feet and making his way over to Mark. “Can you get a thermometer?” he asked softly, trying to to rile Mark further or wake up Kelsey who had finally fallen asleep.
Frank fetched the needed item and handed it to Dylan who stuck it under Mark's arm. “I'm afraid his temperature is rising,” the elderly man sighed. “How bad is it?”
“104.5,” Dylan told him a minute later. “That's the highest it's ever been.”
“Why do you think it's so high? I hope his infection isn't returning,” Frank replied, wincing at the dangerously high number.
“It may just be from all the stress he's under but we have to do something to get it down. Here, help me get him up please. Oh wait...you can't, your knee. Kelsey?” Dylan called to the sleeping form in the corner.
Kelsey woke up nearly instantly and walked over to Mark, trying to stifle a yawn. Dylan told her what was going on and the young doctor bent over Mark, trying to rouse him a bit. “Mark? Buddy, nap time's over. It's time to get up,” she called softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the heat rising from his body.
It took Mark a minute but he finally managed to drag his eyes open. “Huh? Wha'? 'M late...flight left in five minutes...” he mumbled, slurring so badly Kelsey could hardly understand what he had said.
“Mark it's ok, you're not late for any flight,” Kelsey assured him gently.
Mark seemed completely confused. “Huh?” his head lolled to the side and his eyes began to close again as he started to fall back asleep.
Kelsey nudged him again. “Come on Mark, Dylan wants you up.” Mark responded by groaning as his eyes opened slightly again. “That's it Mark,” Kelsey assured him. “Dylan, what were you wanting to do?”
Dylan had fetched a basin of water and was laying a cool, damp cloth over Mark's feverish forehead. “It's like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Do you think there's a wash basin or something around here that we can fill with water and put him in?” he asked, looking around.
After a moment of thinking, Kelsey shook her head sadly. “I don't think so. But there's always the creek though I hope the shock of the cold water won't do more harm than good.”
“I guess we could try it...” Dylan slowly agreed. “Catherine did bring him an extra set of clothes. Alright, let's do this. Kelsey can you help me carry him?” he asked as he gently tugged the oxygen mask off of Mark's mouth and nose.
Kelsey agreed and together they lifted Mark off the bed. The pilot had fallen asleep again and was practically limp in their arms. The two struggled to get him outside to the creek. Setting him in the shallow water was no easy task but they managed. “Sure hope this works,” Kelsey sighed, watching Mark sway in the current as Dylan held his head and shoulders above the water.
“I hope so too,” Dylan admitted. “It'll be nice for him to have a bath, though with no soap.”
Watching him in silence a few seconds longer, Kelsey's face turned a bit worried. “I can't believe he hasn't woken up! The water's pretty cold.”
“I know,” Dylan answered, his face a little pale. “This is really concerning. He seemed pretty out of it too when you tried to wake him up earlier.”
Almost as if he had heard them, Mark suddenly tensed, flinching at the water temperature and began to shiver violently. Kelsey was by him in half a second. “Hey Mark, so sorry about the rude awakening. Are you cold?” she asked with a worried glance at Dylan.
Mark managed to nod and whimper a bit in reply, his shaking hands tugging on Dylan's as he tried to draw in a breath. “Hang on Mark, just a bit longer. We're trying to get your fever down.” Dylan explained in a soothing voice. Mark didn't have the strength to fight much longer and let Dylan continue to keep him in the water without a struggle. A few seconds later, Dylan looked over at Kelsey. “He's been in long enough. Help me get him out please.”
Kelsey and Dylan hoisted Mark out of the water and brought him back to the cave. “I'll step out and pick some berries while you get him in dry clothes,” Kelsey told the three men as she picked up a container and ducked out the opening into the outdoors again, filled with worry about her friend who was once again hanging in the balance between life and death.
About half an hour later, the phone suddenly rang at the Silver Springs Hospital. Sandra snatched it up as it was a call for the hospital. “H-hello?” a panicky voice sounded over the phone. “Please help! I-I tripped and I think m-my ankle's broken. P-please send help!”
Sandra's mind immediately went to her nursing state. “Ok ma'am,” she answered, speaking slowly and clearly. “Can you tell me where you are?”
“O-over by the airfield. P-please hurry! Agh!” the elderly sounding woman cried out.
“We'll be right there,” Sandra assured her. “Catherine come on! We've got a call.”
“Broken ankle? Seriously?” Juhotta asked as he rolled his eyes, leaning up against Mark's beloved plane.
“Well would you rather me have said I broke my toe?” Lillian asked, laying on the ground. Her clothes had changed to that of an elderly woman's and she was wearing a gray wig that seemed to be itchy. “UGH! I hate this bloody costume. Make sure you do your part Juhotta. Sandra fell for it hook line and sinker. I hope she brought Mark's sister along. Make sure you just knock them out not kill them.”
The sound of an ambulance could now be heard echoing through the trees. “They're coming! Get behind the office now!” Lillian hissed as Juhotta took off behind the directed building. The ambulance pulled up a minute or two later and both Catherine and Sandra jumped out and hurried over. Lillian pushed her glasses back on in a clumsy sort of way and yelped in mock pain.
Lillian's daring plan couldn't have gone better. Sandra, full of concern had knelt down beside Lillian's foot and Catherine was looking over her shoulder as Juhotta sauntered over from around the corner and slammed the butt of his gun into Catherine's head. She slumped to the concrete without a sound. Sandra turned to look and managed to catch the evil grin on Juhotta's face before the gun struck her in the head too and knocked her out.
Jumping to her feet, Lillian was all smiles as she pulled off the offending wig. “Good work! Let's get them to the truck.” They each lifted one of the girls and hauled them to the hidden vehicle not far away. “We need to get out of here quick.”
Juhotta slammed the back of the van shut, jumped into the driver's seat and drove away, taking the girls far away from home to an unknown destination. No one knew they were gone, and no one was available to help. A few miles away, Mark lay at death's door, completely oblivious to the fact that two of the people he cared most about were lying helpless and alone in the back of a van in the very hands of the people who had nearly killed him. And that the kidnapping was only the beginning of their devilish plan to destroy both their lives and his.