“Oh, come on. Play along.” Wynn nudged Heather with his elbow. “This should be good.”
Angela’s eyes roam the room as if seeking someone. When she spotted the table, she moved through the crowd slowly and regally as if she were a celebrity walking down the red carpet. The only things missing to complete that picture were flashing cameras and an adoring crowd.
“Poor, Rad,” Heather whispered as Angela went straight to his chair, leaned down, and kissed him on the cheek.
By the time Wynn and Heather made their way back to the table through the crowd, Angela and Jackie had helped themselves to their two empty chairs.
“Oh, look,” Angela said when she saw them, “the whole gang is here.” Even though it was obvious she had taken the couple’s seats, she made no effort to move. Instead, she waved down a waitress and ordered two drinks as if she were simply a late-arriving guest.
“I hear you guys really kicked some ass over there.” She kind of leaned into Rad. “I’m sorry about your injuries during that rescue. I hope you’re recovery is going smoothly.”
Wynn watched Rad’s hand tighten around his glass, but he made no comment. Neither did anyone else. In fact, if the people sitting around the table had been the only ones in the room, you could have heard a pin drop.
“What rescue is that?” Since no one else seemed capable of speaking, Wynn decided to see how much she knew. He casually pulled a chair from another table for Heather, and then found one for himself.
Angela didn’t blink as she gazed around the table at the serious faces. “Oh,” she said, putting her hand across her mouth dramatically, “maybe I’m not supposed to know that.”
Just then the waitress brought the new arrivals’ drinks and the table grew silent again. Wynn studied Angela as he tried to figure out her motive in divulging highly classified information to this group of men. He knew her well enough to comprehend she hadn’t dropped that bombshell by accident. The question was, did she know more? Like where Lauren was? Or was she bluffing because she wanted something? Like, Rad. The news of her sudden divorce from Senator Powers had just started to hit the news.
“Hey, brother,” Wynn said, looking at Rad and playing dumb, “I thought your records said it was a training accident.”
Rad’s chest was rising and falling as if he’d just run a sprint. His gaze drifted from the wall he’d been staring at to Wynn. “Yeah, that’s what the official record says.”
Angela cackled with laughter. “When will you boys learn that classified information doesn’t mean anything as long as you have sources in high places?” She took a long, leisurely sip of her drink. “Doctors, lawyers, politicians—it’s all in who you know.”
“Things are classified for a reason,” Heather said icily. “Like to protect innocent people from those who would intentionally do them harm simply to get ahead in their career.”
This time it was Wynn who kicked Heather under the table.
Angela’s eyes slanted into mere slits as she stared at Heather. “I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but I don’t like your tone.”
“Calm down, Angela.” Wynn leaned forward. “She’s not insinuating anything—”
“That’s right. She’s not insinuating anything.” Pops didn’t let Wynn finish. “She’s merely stating the fact that if it weren’t for you, nobody would have been taken captive and Rad wouldn’t have been injured rescuing them. That’s all.”
Angela’s drink hit the table with a loud bang. “How dare you!” She looked at Rad as if he should do something, and do something he did.
“Back off, guys,” he said. “Leave Angie alone.”
Wynn had to work hard to suppress a smile. He knew Angie was one smart cookie, but she was sitting with a tableful of seasoned interrogators. They all wanted to find out what she was hiding, but understood she wasn’t the type who could be threatened or intimidated. That would just make her dig in. No. She needed to be coddled and massaged, made to believe she was the one in charge.
Pops had taken the first step to reel her in using the “bad cop” ruse, and Rad was going in for the kill as the “good cop.”
“This is a celebration, and I propose a toast.” Rad held his glass in the air. “Here’s to getting the job done.” He clinked his glass against Angie’s. “No matter one’s occupation.”
All the guys at the table smiled and raised their glasses, understanding the scheme, while the wives and girlfriends appeared bewildered and confused, refusing to take part in the toast.
Rad waved at the waitress. “A round for the table, on me.” She nodded, but he grabbed her arm before she walked away. “Make mine a double this time.”
Drinks continued to flow, and although the conversation was more stilted since Angie’s arrival, there were plenty of stories about the good ‘ole days and exploits that grew more daring and dangerous each time they were told.
Rad leaned back and grimaced when his leg hit the table.
“You poor thing.” Angie put her hand on his thigh. “I hope it’s not too painful.”
Rad actually winced when her hand made contact, and Wynn knew it wasn’t from the pain of the injury—it was from the amount of self-control it took not to forcefully remove her hand from his leg and her body from the room.
“It’s not bad,” he croaked.
“Well, you helped save a life. At least it wasn’t in vain.” Angie turned to say something to Jackie, but it felt like everyone else at the table sucked in a deep breath. Rad’s head turned slowly toward Wynn, and the expression on his face showed new hope mixed with heightened desperation. It was heartrending.
Wynn closed his eyes. So help me God, Angie, if you are pretending to know something or are lying, I will kill you with my own two hands.
“I went to school with a doctor who works at Walter Reed, so I know they took good care of you.” Angie went on talking, changing the subject from doctors to stories of her college years, apparently taking great delight in seeing how engrossed everyone was in what she was saying.
After knocking off the last of his drink and setting his empty glass down unsteadily again, Rad leaned back in his chair and put his arm carelessly around the back of Angela’s chair.
“So you going to do a follow-up story or anything?”
“On what, honey?”
Wynn put his hands under the table as they curled into fists. He had never hit a woman before, but Angela was testing him. Severely.
“Oh, that spy.” She picked up her glass and took a sip. “I haven’t thought about it, but that’s a good idea.”
She set her glass down. “On second thought, it’s probably impossible.”
Everybody’s gaze zeroed in on her.
“Why?” A flicker of tortured agony crossed Rad’s gaze and then vanished.
“She’s got a new identity now. A new life. Don’t you think? That’s what they do with people like her, right?” She turned to Jackie and winked. “I mean, she could be just down the street right now and who would know?”
Rad leaned back in his chair and laughed. It was superb acting because everyone knew how much he was hurting.
“We need to get going.” Wynn stood and pulled out Heather’s chair. He knew the longer the night went on, the more anxious Rad would become, but they had to go slow. One wrong move, and Angie would clam up. The interrogation could continue another day when minds were clearer and they had a plan in place.
“Already?” Angie looked at her watch.
“Come on, Rad, I’ll give you a lift.” Wynn helped Rad out of his chair, and then handed him his cane. “You okay to walk? I don’t want you falling and breaking that.”
“I’m fine.”
“I can give you a lift to the hotel if Wynn’s car is full,” Angie said. “I practically go right by it to get home.”
The hustle and bustle of everyone grabbing their belongings and pushing in chairs stopped as they waited for Rad to answer. They all knew he was pretty well plowed. Getting in
formation out of Angie was one thing. Going to bed with her to get it, another.
“Wynn will take me.”
Rad never had a problem sleeping on a rattling, old C-130, or in a hard bunk bed in a barracks, or even on the cold, hard ground in the middle of winter. But try as he might, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep in the five-star hotel room in Washington, D.C., that Wynn and Heather had booked for him.
He tossed and turned, trying to quiet the voices in his head and to stop the images that appeared from the deepest recesses of his mind. It felt like he was watching a television set that kept changing the channels and wouldn’t turn off.
It probably didn’t help that he had consumed too much alcohol at the restaurant, and the room was still spinning. But the whiskey had been the only thing stopping him from picking Angie up and throwing her out on the sidewalk. The fact she felt no remorse for her actions just added to his anger. In her mind, jeopardizing an American life was an indirect consequence of breaking a big story. The ends justified the means.
But now he had to figure out if she knew anything or was just playing him. It didn’t take any great knowledge of her character to know she’d string someone along if it meant getting what she wanted—and she’d made it pretty clear tonight she wanted him.
He reached for the remote control and turned on the TV, hoping the background noise would help him sleep. How much more of this could he take? He’d pursued every lead and called in every favor from friends he had in the DOD, CIA, and DHS ever since he’d awakened at Walter Reed. Now that he’d been released he planned to bang on doors—or knock down doors—of politicians who wouldn’t give him the time of day on the phone. He even intended to make an unannounced visit to Senator Gerald Powers.
But maybe none of that would be necessary. Maybe the one who had caused the whole tragedy, would be the one to help him find Lauren. He continued going over everything Angie had said, wondering if she had dropped a clue they all had missed.
Rad closed his eyes and tried again to relax. One of the sequences that kept replaying in his mind was the time he’d gone for a spin in the wheelchair at the hospital. Deciding to explore, he’d taken the elevator to the upper floor and run into Dr. Bradley in the hall. She’d seemed flustered to discover him there and had even escorted him back down. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, and even now, he couldn’t figure out why his mind kept rewinding over that event.
After getting up and doing a couple of shots from the room’s private bar, Rad finally decided it wasn’t the hotel room or the bed. His brain was trying to work something out, something that didn’t fit. He may as well accept it and let it do its thing.
At about at 0700 he sat straight up, breathing heavily. Getting dressed, he slipped out of the hotel and took a taxi to Walter Reed.
Chapter 31
Dr. Bradley juggled the cup of coffee in her hand as she rummaged through her purse for her key card. As soon as she found it and swiped her office door, she felt a presence over her left shoulder.
“Here, let me get that for you.”
Michael Radcliff pushed the door open with his left hand, and with his right hand, the one holding his cane, he gently but firmly pushed her through the door.
“Radcliff.” She said his name as calmly as she could because he appeared like a mountain to her. She could sense his power and vitality and knew better than to challenge or question him. Instead, she kept her voice light, even though she was scared to death. “I could have sworn you were discharged.”
“I was.”
Putting her purse on the desk, she shrugged off her jacket. “So you miss us that much? I’m flattered.”
“I learned something interesting last night.”
The way he said the words made Dr. Bradley’s heart pick up its pace. “Really?”
“I ran into my ex at a restaurant.”
Dr. Bradley could feel his eyes probing her, so she tried to keep her face expressionless. “Is that right?”
“She mentioned she knew you.”
Dr. Bradley considered pretending she didn’t know who he was talking about, but one look at his face told her that would be a mistake. “You mean Angela? Yes, we’ve met, but we—”
“Actually it sounded to me like you went to school together.” Rad corrected her.
“Oh, well. That’s a big school so—”
“And that you were sorority sisters.”
The room fell silent for a moment as Dr. Bradley tried to decide how she could call security without Rad knowing. She bit her lip and looked away.
“Funny, you never mentioned it.” He crossed his arms and stared at her with slanted eyes.
“To be honest with you, I didn’t know my college years would be of any interest to you.” Dr. Bradley forced a laugh but could not bring herself to meet his gaze.
“If we’re being honest then I have to admit she didn’t actually tell me that.” Rad leaned down and looked her in the eye. “I was just guessing.”
Dr. Bradley’s head jerked up. “Okay, you can stop with the games.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “What do you want?”
“Who’s in room 313?”
Trying to catch the breath his question knocked out of her, Dr. Bradley walked over to her desk. “A lot of patients come and go here, Radcliff. I don’t have the rooms memorized.”
Rad grabbed her by the arm and led her back out the door. “It’s right down that hall, to the left, at the end.”
“Oh, that one,” she said weakly as she turned back to her office.
“Yeah. That one.” His voice was low and serious. “I couldn’t sleep last night and remembered the day you gave me the wheelchair and I went exploring on my own. Remember that?”
“Vaguely.”
“Only vaguely? Because you seemed pretty nervous when you saw me on this floor.”
“I was surprised, that’s all.” She laughed nervously. “I mean, really, I just didn’t expect to see you up here.”
“Okay, let’s cut to the chase.” He stood in front of her and hit the floor with his cane as if agitated. “Why is there a guard in front of the door?”
“I don’t know. She’s not my patient.”
The doctor couldn’t help but notice the expression on Rad’s face at the use of the word ‘she’ and realized he had come here only on a hunch. Angela must have said something last night that had gotten his wheels turning and Dr. Bradley had just confirmed his entire theory.
“But you’ve seen her.”
Dr. Bradley bit her lip. “Yes. We have rounds. I’ve seen the patient in that room.”
“I want to see her.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “No. You probably don’t.”
“I’m a big boy, Dr. Bradley. I can take it.”
“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t.” She went back to the desk, sat down, and fingered through some files. “I don’t have the authority to get you in there. Those guards weren’t placed there by me.”
Rad put one hand on the back of her chair and one on the desk, and bent down with apparent effort. “Was she shot?”
The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice startled her.
“No. Why?”
He pulled himself back up and dropped into a nearby chair with a loud sigh, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “When I was shot…” He paused, apparently trying to keep his voice from quivering. “I thought maybe she was hit too… that I had gotten her killed by running through the gunfire.” He choked up again and paused. “But I was just trying to save her.”
Putting his head in his hands, he sat breathing heavily, rubbing his temples as if trying to clear the images from his mind. “They worked on me on the helicopter—not her. I thought she was dead.”
Dr. Bradley stood and put her hand on Rad’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you thought that. They were working on you because you were bleeding to death. She had critical injuries, but not the type that could be treated o
n a helicopter. All they could do was try to get her stabilized.”
She sat back down and stared at the mountain of a man who had appeared so frightening a few minutes ago. Now he seemed on the verge of tears, an emotional wreck caused by the anguish he’d been living with without telling a soul. She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “She’s got a traumatic brain injury. She’s been in a drug induced coma to help her heal.”
Rad stared straight ahead. “She doesn’t have any family. No one to visit.”
“Yes, I noticed that.” Dr. Bradley leaned back in her chair with a pencil in her hand, tapping it on the desk. Then she stood. “There is nothing I can do that won’t jeopardize my license. I’ve already disclosed more than HIPPA rules allow. I’m sorry.”
Rad continued to stare at the wall on the opposite side of the room and nodded, but his mind seemed elsewhere.
“But sometimes the guard goes outside with me for a smoke.” She glanced at her watch. “Right around now.”
Rad’s gaze slowly returned to hers, and the look on his face made her want to wrap her arms around him and comfort him. They burned with want and need and a yearning she had never before seen in a man’s eyes.
She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote #1833 on the page, underlining it twice even though she knew he understood it was the keypad code to get through the door. Then she grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from her purse. “I hope the hell you’re out of this hospital by the time I get back in about ten minutes.”
Rad waited for the sound of the two voices to disappear down the hall. He’d grabbed a white lab coat from Dr. Bradley’s office, and although it was snug, hoped it helped him fit in. Walking to the door, he took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for what he was going to see.
The click of the door lock unlatching after he’d punched in the numbers sounded like a gun blast to his tightly strung nerves. As soon as he stepped inside, the sound of machines greeted his ears, some beeping rhythmically, others humming, still another making a sickening sucking noise. He walked toward the bed and noticed how small and fragile she appeared as she lay amidst a maze of blinking modern technology.
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