Fractured: V Plague Book 15

by Dirk Patton

  I came to stand behind Rachel, playing my role.

  “I’m sorry, doctor,” the young nurse said hesitantly. “I don’t recognize you. May I have your name?”

  Rachel sighed dramatically and glared at the woman.

  “I’m Doctor Bailey and I’m from the ADF. You were notified I was coming to examine the patient that was brought in this evening!”

  The two nurses traded glances, neither of them quite sure if they should follow the rules, or comply with the doctor standing in front of them.

  “I’m sorry, doctor. I didn’t…”

  “I don’t really care if you did or not,” Rachel said. “I have a job to do, and I’ve got a surgery in three hours. I don’t have time for incompetence. Now, hand me the chart!”

  The nurse was nervous and unsure, but didn’t seem ready to cave. My turn. I stepped next to Rachel and gave the young woman my best smile. Holding up the cop’s badge, I let them catch a brief glimpse before tucking it away and turning on the Aussie accent.

  “Major Lucas Martin, miss. I’m with the Australian Defence Force and it’s a matter of national security that Doctor Bailey examines the patient. You see, we think he’s involved with the… well, I can’t say anything else about that. I’m supposed to interrogate him and I’m sure that you, being a professional, are well aware of the Duncan Act. It’s a pain in the arse, but I can’t question the bloody bastard until the doctor here clears him medically.

  “And, you know what? I was there when the call was made. Heard my commander speaking to a nurse. You probably came on shift sometime around midnight. Am I right?”

  “A little before that,” she said, nodding.

  “See? There’s the problem! The last shift didn’t tell you. Not your fault you don’t know anything about this. And I’ll bet it happens all the time, too.”

  “You have no idea,” the other nurse chimed in, rolling her eyes and nodding.

  I smiled at her and turned back to the one who seemed to be in charge.

  “So, how about it? Can you help us out so I don’t have to start waking people up? You know the other shift is gonna say they told you and it’s your fault for not paying attention.”

  The two women stared at me for a beat, then the shorter nurse spun, snatched a chart out of a rolling rack and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I said, still smiling.

  She nodded and looked at Rachel.

  “I’m sorry, doctor,” she said. “The evening shift really didn’t tell us you were coming.”

  Rachel waved a hand in the air as if it didn’t matter, flipped the chart open and walked away in the direction of room 2. I gave the two nurses a wink and followed her around the curve.

  “What the hell’s the Duncan Act?” Rachel mumbled, eyes on the chart in case we were being watched.

  “Beats the hell out of me,” I said. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

  We reached Lucas’s room and she pushed in. I followed, softly closing the door behind me.

  Lucas, wearing only a hospital gown, lay in a bed looking at us. Both wrists were manacled to the bed’s metal frame and an IV was hooked to his left arm. A thick swaddling of bandages was on the side of his head and purple bruising was visible around both eyes.

  “About fuckin’ time,” he growled.

  “Bite me,” I said, stepping around Rachel and unlocking both sets of cuffs with a key I’d taken from the safe house.

  “Up your arse, you damn bloody Yank,” he said, rubbing his wrists when the steel bracelets fell away.

  “Love you too, sweetie,” I said with a grin.

  Rachel went around the bed and checked the IV, closing it off and removing it from his arm.

  “Saline drip,” she said when she saw my questioning look. “Lucas, how are you feeling?”

  “Got a damn bloody headache to beat the band, but otherwise I’m okay.”

  “Why were you cuffed?” I asked.

  He swung around to sit on the edge of the bed and looked up at me.

  “Those bastards were Russians,” he said. “The PM’s office got wind of what happened and sent some preening asshole over with a couple of cops. Told me I was going to be charged in the morning, soon as the docs released me.”

  “Cuffed you and didn’t leave a man on the door?” I asked.

  “What are you talking about? There’s a bloke out there. You didn’t see him?”

  I shook my head as my heart rate shot up. Not another fucking cop to deal with!

  “Get dressed!” I hissed, turning to the door.

  I’d already seen his clothes in a plastic bag sitting on a chair on the far side of the cramped room. While he stood, I cracked the door open and peeked into the hall. No guard and not even a chair. Stepping through, I walked to the nurse’s station and was greeted with a warm smile.

  “The cop that was here to watch him,” I said, hooking my thumb at Lucas’s room. “Where is he?”

  “Oh, him,” the taller one said. “He left not too long ago. Got a phone call, then said goodnight.”

  “That’s all he said?” I asked with a sinking feeling.

  “That’s it,” she confirmed, shrugging.

  Thanking her, I hurried back into the room. Lucas was buttoning his shirt, which had a large blood stain, and still had to put his boots on.

  “Move your ass,” I said. “Something’s not right. We need to get out of here.”

  39

  Lucas finished dressing quickly as I bent and unlocked the hand cuffs from the bed. I tossed him a set that he slipped into his pocket before turning around and holding his arms behind his back. I slapped the second pair on his wrists, making sure the keyhole was pointing down and only clicking to the first position so they were very loose. Pressing the key into his hand, I grabbed him by the upper arm and nodded at Rachel who was waiting at the door.

  She pulled it open and strode purposefully out of the room. I waited a couple of seconds, then emerged with Lucas in tow, appearing to be in my custody. Rachel was at the counter, speaking with the two nurses who both looked up in surprise when I emerged with their patient. I ignored them and headed directly for the exit.

  “Major!” the shorter one called. “He’s not been discharged. You can’t take him!”

  “Government business,” I said without turning my head.

  I moved fast, seemingly dragging Lucas along, but he was staying right with me. The nurse protested again, but we had already reached the doors and I pushed through without pausing. As we headed down the empty hall, I expected to hear her voice from behind, but either she decided it wasn’t her business or Rachel managed to dissuade her from coming after us.

  Turning into the corridor that would take us to the elevator, I saw the old Aborigine man back at work with the buffer. He looked up, saw me and held his hands out in some sort of sign before fleeing as fast as he could. There was a clink of steel, Lucas removing the cuffs, and I released his arm as we continued down the hall. A few moments later, I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of running feet. It was Rachel, hurrying to catch up.

  “What the hell was with the Abo?” Lucas asked.

  “The what?”

  “Aboriginal. Sorry. Not supposed to say Abo these days.”

  “Beats the hell out of me,” I said. “When we came in, he acted like he’d seen a ghost or something.”

  “That’s what that was,” Lucas said. “The sign he made. Supposed to ward off spirits of the dead.”

  Rachel and I looked at each other and very nearly came to a stop.

  “What?” Lucas asked when he noticed our exchange.

  “Long story,” I said. “Let’s get out of here, first. Here.”

  I reached behind my back and pulled an extra pistol out of my waistband and handed it to Lucas. He checked for a round in the chamber, dropped the magazine to make sure it was fully loaded, then shoved it in his pants and adjusted his bloody shirt to hide it.

  We reached the elevator bank and I pushe
d the down arrow. It wasn’t more than a few seconds before one of the cars dinged to announce its arrival. Lucas and I moved to stand shoulder to shoulder, facing the car. Rachel was behind us. The doors started to slide open and I leaned forward, ready to hustle inside. I wanted away from the hospital before the cop we’d left in the Emergency Department was found.

  As the doors opened, I paused in surprise. I’d expected the car to be empty this time of night, but four men were standing there, waiting to exit. For a beat, we all stared at each other. In that instant, I categorized them as either police or military. All were extremely fit with neatly cropped hair and smooth shaves. Hands were empty and not in any pocket. They held themselves tighter than normal civilians, bodies ready to respond instantly to any threat.

  While I was evaluating them, they were doing the same to us. The one in front, to my right, was a few years older and had the hard, flat stare of someone who’s seen a lot of shit. His eyes shifted between me and Lucas, then beyond to check Rachel. They widened ever so slightly in recognition, then he went into motion and barked a single word. In Russian.

  Lucas and I both responded instantly. He lunged to the side, tearing the pistol out of his waistband as I spun and yanked Rachel with me in the other direction. As we moved, I pulled my weapon, shoved her clear and turned to the open elevator doors as Lucas began shooting. I joined him an instant later, both of us understanding the situation.

  We had a numerically superior force that was here to do us harm. But, for the moment, we had then boxed into a confined space. Our best course of action was to pump as many bullets into the car’s interior in as short a span of time as possible. And that’s what we did, but it didn’t prevent the men inside from returning fire.

  The crash of all the weapons was shockingly loud, immediately deafening us as the sound bounced off all the hard surfaces. I pulled the trigger as fast as I could, leaning to the side in hopes of finding a target. Stepping in front of the open doors to aim would be suicide.

  When my pistol’s slide locked open on an empty chamber, Rachel was ready and snatched it away, slapping the cop’s weapon into my hand. I continued firing, but Lucas had run dry. Bullets were coming out of the car at all angles, slamming into the opposite wall and sometimes passing too close for comfort.

  I felt Rachel’s hand on my back pocket, then heard her shout Lucas’s name. He looked at her in time to snatch a loaded spare magazine out of the air and a second later was back in the fight. We kept pumping out rounds, but I didn’t think we were doing anything other than keeping them bottled up. I’d yet to see anything to target.

  This was confirmed when one of the Russians suddenly threw himself through the doors and across the hall. He came low and fast, firing his weapon in Lucas’s direction. Before I could react, there were three fast shots from behind me, where Rachel stood, and he flipped over and lay still.

  Expecting another rush, I waved at Lucas and both of us took a step back. There was another shot from Rachel, this one taking off most of the Russian’s face. The bastard must have been wearing body armor for her first three shots to not have taken him out of the fight.

  Instead of another runner, trying to attack us, the elevator doors started sliding closed. On impulse, I reached for the call button to keep them open, stopping myself at the last instant. I only had one more magazine and I’d just seen Lucas run dry again. My gun couldn’t have more than a couple of rounds left and Rachel had fired four times.

  At best, we had twenty-five or twenty-six bullets between the three of us and we’d already fired off more than that in less than ten seconds. If the Russians were pulling back, then that’s exactly what we needed to do. Besides, after the noisy firefight, half the Sydney police department was probably on the way.

  “Stairs!” I shouted after looking around and spotting a sign.

  I passed the last full magazine to Lucas and led the way. I shouldn’t have crashed through the door in case there were more Russians in the stairwell, but I didn’t think we had a moment to spare. At least in America, the police are very quick to respond when a hospital calls for help. I didn’t see any reason to think it would be any different in Australia.

  Fortunately, the stairwell was empty when the steel fire door slammed into the concrete wall. Running down the first half-flight, I nearly tripped and fell. Cursing vehemently, I forced myself to slow slightly. With only one working eye, my depth perception was gone. I knew this, but in the heat of battle had ignored the deficit.

  We made the turn and pounded down to the second floor, flashing past the door. Making the final turn, I nearly shot a hospital employee who was standing in the first-floor landing, gawking at us. He was wearing scrubs and had a smoldering cigarette in one of the hands he raised when I pointed my weapon at him. I shoved him aside and reached for the door, pausing when Lucas shouted.

  I turned, expecting a problem, but he grabbed the man and pulled him to stand next to the metal handrail. He fished the manacles out of his back pocket, securing the frightened man to the railing.

  “Someone will be along and find you, mate,” he said, patting the man’s face.

  Pistol tight in my hand, I cracked the door open an inch and looked through. We had come out near the elevator bank and there was a long hallway to our left that led to the Emergency Department. I didn’t want to go that way. Every cop that responded would know the hospital locked down every other entrance at night, so they’d just come in through the ambulance bay.

  And, once inside, straight down the hall to the elevators or, if they were smart, the stairs. The hall was empty, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Pulling the door open, I went through with my pistol up, covering the elevator doors. Rachel and Lucas followed.

  I had moved us in the direction of the Emergency Department while the man shackled in the stairs could see us, but reversed direction as soon as the door closed. It wouldn’t be long before someone found him and I didn’t want him telling them we’d headed deeper into the hospital.

  Hurrying forward, I shoved the pistol into my waistband beneath my shirt, but kept my hand on the butt. There was a good chance we’d run into an employee and we were memorable enough without having them freak out at the sight of a weapon. Glancing back, I saw Lucas’s blood stained shirt and moved us into a shallow alcove that held portraits of people who were big donors to the hospital.

  “Give him your shirt,” I said to Rachel.

  She looked at me in confusion for a beat, then glanced at Lucas and nodded. Without hesitation, she shrugged out of the lab coat while he removed his shirt. Rachel peeled the scrub top over her head, seemingly unconcerned over baring her breasts. I was keeping watch and it’s not like I hadn’t seen them before. Lucas, a perfect gentleman, kept his eyes averted.

  “Tell Ziggy about this and I’ll kick your ass,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head.

  It’s a good thing scrubs are intentionally made several sizes too large. What had been a sack on Rachel was stretched to bursting by Lucas’s shoulders and chest. But it was still better than walking around looking like the survivor of a zombie attack. Rachel pulled the coat on and buttoned it up as far as it would go. While it may have been obvious to someone who knew she wasn’t wearing a shirt, it was good enough for now.

  As we stood there, two nurses came around a corner, chatting brightly with paper cups of coffee in their hands. They glanced at us, smiled and kept going. So far, so good.

  40

  Strickland watched through the night vision as Igor circled to the far side of the village. He was impressed with how well the big Spetsnaz soldier moved, but kept his rifle up to provide fire support if any of the townspeople spotted him.

  The wind had dropped and with it, the steady sighing of the pine boughs in the forest. He absently noted the temperature had plummeted. The thick blanket of snow muted sounds, creating a hushed environment and perfect conditions for noises to be carried long distances. He noted the very distant bark of a dog without
taking his attention off the dark village below. They were still being pursued.

  But there was time. He was willing to bet the baying he’d just heard was well over two miles away. In these conditions, on foot, it would take the guards nearly forty-five minutes to reach their position. They had time, as long as the Hind didn’t return. It was only a guess, but it probably hadn’t come back because the spot was being repaired. Obviously lacking any advanced night-imaging equipment, the gunship was useless as a search platform without the light.

  How long did they have? There was no way to know. He had no idea where the helo was based or if they would even have a replacement light available. But that was all going to be a moot point in a few hours when the sun came up.

  Glancing at the sky, he saw that what had been dense cloud cover was quickly breaking up. Huge rents had opened, revealing a black sky dotted with millions of twinkling stars. The ground was going to be brilliantly lit by the sun come morning and he suspected the Hind would be back on the job. If they weren’t captured or killed before morning. Dismissing his musings, he focused on Igor’s dark form as he moved to the back wall of one of the largest huts.

  Igor stopped behind the shack the old man had glanced at when they were talking. It may have been the largest structure in the tiny village, but it couldn’t have been more than two cramped rooms. The walls were rough-hewn wood, taken from the surrounding forests, and after several minutes of careful listening he couldn’t hear any sounds from the interior.

  This didn’t surprise him. The home had been built for the climate, which meant as much material as possible between the occupants and the long, bitter winter.

  It wasn’t uncommon for people to double up the thickness of the exterior walls, filling the narrow space between with soil to add a layer of protection from the elements. Inside, every surface would probably be covered with blankets or animal pelts, or a mix of both, to help hold the heat generated by a small, wood-burning stove. There were no windows and only a single door on the far side of the structure. The roof was low to reduce the volume of indoor space that had to be heated.