Errand of Mercy: How far do you run, and where do you hide?

by William Walker

  “If they give us any trouble, we’ll slap one on Lucy’s door,” Starr said. He pocketed the sticker and looked back at O’Brien. “Daniel, I know you’d like to get in your room...”

  “I’ll need to shave in a couple of days, but what’s important now is getting out with Lucy.”

  “I guess a shower and clean clothes could wait a week or so,” Gina jabbed.

  “Ouch,” he replied in a lighter tone. “You hurt my feelings.”

  “Like you’ve got some?”

  Starr leaned in. “Okay everyone. Can we concentrate on our mission? What’s the room number again, Daniel?”

  “515.”

  “Let’s go then, people,” Starr announced and opened his door. “Room 515.”

  O’Brien stepped to the sidewalk amid a flurry of white coats and medical bags and tried to ignore the woman. If she had difficulty dealing with men or with him specifically, then it was her problem. His concentration had to be on Lucy.

  Their UN escorts were from Senegal. The men were strong-looking blacks who spoke English with heavy French accents. They dressed and acted like military police the world over: cop attitudes along with camouflage fatigues, jungle boots and holstered side arms, the kind of guys O’Brien enjoyed drinking with. Starr introduced them as Lieutenants Mégret and Gousseau.

  “You know those guys?” he asked Starr as they walked to the doorway.

  “Yeah. They’ve been with us before. The personnel in the UN contingent will use any excuse to get out once in a while, and the officers always take these little excursions. They’re never passed down to the enlisted troops.”

  Gina walked up beside him. “Sorry if I’m a little snippy. I don’t mean to be.”

  He glimpsed her face. “I’m not trying to hit on you, if that’s what you think.”

  “She’s recently divorced,” Starr growled. “So let’s leave it at that.”

  “Wait. Let me guess,” O’Brien said. “The guy looked just like me.”

  Gina laughed a little.

  “There is a military staff car parked over there,” Lieutenant Mégret pointed out. “Can you see him? He is just around the corner.”

  “So that makes three, maybe four soldiers inside the hotel,” O’Brien said.

  “Yes, waiting for us, and possibly for you,” Mégret said.

  Gina abruptly grabbed O’Brien’s right hand. She moved it forcefully into his deep lab-coat pocket.

  “What’s this?” He gazed at her in amazement.

  “Your burn scars on your arm and hand. Those would identify you from the bar fight, wouldn’t they? A receptionist would be alert for that.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “But how about the side of my face? I’ve got burn marks there also.”

  “You could just turn your left side to everyone. You look…okay anyway.”

  He was astonished on three counts. One, that she noticed his disability, and two, that she connected it to a potential danger. And three, that he looked okay, at least on one side. Was she trying to make up? She walked beside him, eyes straight ahead. “Very good,” he said. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

  “I’m a doctor,” she said.

  “So am I.” He patted his name tag with a couple of thumps.

  “I see.” She gave him a glance with a smile in it.

  Chilled, conditioned air in the lobby hit O’Brien in the face. He drew in a slow breath of delight and watched Gina fan her face with the cool air. The electricity was on for now.

  Two young men in ill-fitting hotel jackets stood with an older lady behind a worn, marble check-in counter. They hadn’t been on duty when he and Lucy had checked in, so they wouldn’t be making any connections right off the bat. Moreover, they didn’t appear to be hotel employees anyway. O’Brien bet they couldn’t find a room key if their lives depended on it. They were part of the problem, along with the two Liberian soldiers in dirty fatigues slouching in frayed chairs by the elevators.

  Starr spoke to the lieutenants and proceeded to the front desk. O’Brien had to give him points for attitude.

  Mégret and Gousseau sauntered over to the soldiers and arranged themselves in cop stances at each side of the chairs. They were larger, tougher, and cleaner than the soldiers, and they put on expressions layered with steel. The conversational group had the comforting appearance of club bouncers leaning on a pair of unhappy drunks.

  O’Brien and Gina headed directly for the elevators. The doors were open and O’Brien stepped in and punched the button for the fifth floor.

  “What? You’re not going to kill anyone?” Gina nodded toward the soldiers as the doors closed.

  “I wouldn’t mind taking out those two punks at the front desk, except you made me keep my hand in my pocket.”

  “We can take it out now.” She reached in his pocket, grabbed his hand, and dropped it at his side.

  “Thanks.” He examined his fingers, flexed them back and forth. Her focus was on the overhead floor numbers as the elevator started its ascent.

  “So what’s this Lucy like?” The question hung for a moment as the elevator bell clanged past successive floors.

  “She’s professional, tough, proud. Maybe like you, or what I assume you’re like when you’re not pissed at the world.”

  Her head was tilted upward, and he heard an abrupt intake of breath. He was struck by the mix of beautiful angles in her face. She probably saw her looks as an obstacle, one that drew out a hundred horny guys from the woodwork at every turn in her medical career and her life. It gave her an attitude. Then again, things could be worse. She could be ugly. “Lucy has a funny sense of humor,” he said.

  “And?”

  “I’m not sure you do.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “That’s correct, but I know you’ve got a chip on your shoulder, and that gets in the way of a sense of humor every time.”

  He could feel her stare as the door opened, but he didn’t turn his head. He leaned out, checked the corridor and motioned down the hallway. “This way,” he said.

  Room 515 was located inexplicably ten doors down from room 501, which opened across from the elevator. Room numbers were combined in a fuzzy math format that he could not decipher. His room 506 was located directly opposite Lucy’s.

  He gave 515 a rapid knock and called out in a low voice. At the same time he glanced back at his own door. Everything appeared normal.

  Lucy opened up partway. “Daniel,” she cracked in a hoarse voice. She coughed into her hand. “It’s about time you got here. Of course, I really don’t need any help.”

  She pulled her door open all the way and O’Brien got a good look at her. She wore gray sweatpants and jogging shoes. A white blouse was buttoned over a black T-shirt of some kind. She’d missed one of the buttons.

  “Everything ready to go?”

  She nodded. “My rolling suitcase is next to the bed. And who’s this?”

  “Lucy, this is Gina. Gina, Lucy.” He waved back and forth. “Gina is one of the docs out at the medical compound.”

  Gina held out her hand. She raised her eyebrows as Lucy squeezed.

  “Lu, don’t break her fingers,” O’Brien said.

  “I’d need my strength back for that,” Lucy said.

  “Can we sit for a moment?” Gina suggested. “I’d like to give you a quick check before we start downstairs.”

  “Sure. The bed okay?” Lucy turned around and stepped slowly back into the room.

  The place was an exact duplicate of his beige, prison cell across the hall, only hers had flower prints on the walls. A large television set running a grainy BBC News channel sat on low counter across from a queen bed. A table and two chairs were positioned under a window with dirty blinds. O’Brien picked up a scent of shampoo and perfume, and a trace of something slightly sour underneath.

  Lucy sat on the corner of her bed and squinted at O’Brien’s name tag. “Are we going to play doctor, Doctor Barnett?”

  He smiled. Lucy was
hanging in there. “Gina didn’t give me anything to poke you with,” he deadpanned.

  “I thought you had all you needed,” she laughed in a scratchy voice.

  “And then some,” O’Brien came back. He put a growl in his voice.

  “Lucy,” Gina interjected. “Guys...can I get this...in…?” She popped an old-fashioned thermometer in Lucy’s mouth.

  A blood pressure cuff appeared. Gina strapped it around Lucy’s arm and gave the pump a few quick contractions.

  Lucy rolled her eyes and mumbled something unintelligible.

  O’Brien heard the elevator bell clang at the end of the corridor. After a moment Starr lurched through the open door.

  “How’s the patient?” he asked as he approached. His brow was knotted with concern. He reached out and pulled on the thermometer.

  “My God, ninety-two degrees!” His hand went to her forehead.

  “I just stuck it in, Gary.” Gina said, with exasperation.

  “Oh.” He reinserted it.

  “But she does look weak,” Gina said.

  Lucy slurped around the thermometer. “No shit! I’m all right though. Jeez, people.”

  O’Brien fingered his stethoscope and added his own medical advice, “You need to keep your mouth closed, Lucy.”

  She raised her eyebrows to their maximum limit and shot him a look.

  The group went silent for a moment as all eyes settled on her pressure cuff. The air hissed slowly out of the device and the room took on the air of a mild courtroom drama awaiting the jury’s verdict. Simultaneously, both doctors broke out with smiles.

  Starr leaned in to Lucy, pulled out the thermometer with a glance, and put his beefy arm around her. “Here, I’ll help you get to the car.”

  “Gary, for crying out loud,” Lucy squealed. “I can frigging walk!”

  “You’re weak,” Starr replied. “We can all see that. But you don’t have a fever and that’s good news.”

  “How in the hell could you tell? That thing was only in my mouth for thirty seconds—and Daniel, don’t you say a freaking thing.”

  He grinned and raised his hands with a shrug. “What would I say?”

  “Something from your dirty mind.”

  He laughed.

  “You guys…” Gina smiled and shook her head.

  Starr grabbed her suitcase and moved her into the corridor. “Daniel,” he said over his shoulder. “I think everything’s clear if you want to get into your room and get your things. For now, anyway. I’ll get Lucy downstairs to the car.”

  “Do we need these cholera quarantines?” Gina followed Starr to the door and held out the stickers to his back.

  He shook his head. “Those guys at the counter were assholes, but they left me alone after I waved one in their face. In fact, they want us out of here.” He tightened his arm around Lucy. “Why don’t you help Daniel?”

  Gina watched him receding toward the elevators with an arm around Lucy. “I’ve never seen him act this way,” she said with a bemused expression.

  O’Brien unlocked the door to his room. Gina followed him inside.

  “I see the soldiers ransacked the place,” she said. “Sorry Daniel.”

  “What?” He gave her a puzzled look. “This is the way I left it.”

  “Oh my God!” She put a hand to her mouth.

  “Well...” He shrugged his shoulders and looked around the room. From the perspective of a guest the dirty underwear on top of the television set along with the crumpled sheets didn’t look good. “I didn’t know I was going to have company.”

  “Umm, where do we start?” Gina peeked into the bathroom.

  “Throw everything you can find into this suitcase,” O’Brien said. “That’s all there is to it.” He waited. Evidently, a short adjustment period was required. “I appreciate the help, Gina. I mean it.”

  She seemed afraid to move. “Is that underwear on top of the TV?” Her eyes went wide.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’ve found that if I put them there I never leave the room without’em. I’ve left so many behind on beds and—”

  “Okay.” She raised a hand. “I understand...I think.” Plainly, she did not, and her look of bewilderment made him wonder about his hotel-room habit patterns.

  He edged sideways toward the TV and snatched away the offending pair of boxer shorts. They had to be the pink, paisley pair that didn’t look especially manly.

  “Just so you know, we don’t have many TVs at the medical compound,” she said.

  “Maybe I just won’t wear any underwear then.” He balled the dirty clothes into a tight wad and stuffed them into the open suitcase.

  “Lucy might like that.”

  His mouth came open. He closed it. Gina had a prickly smile on her face.

  “I’m…sorry. I guess I was trying to be funny,” she said. “Maybe I don’t have the sense of humor you guys have.”

  “You’re trying,” he said with a genuine smile. “And that makes all the difference in the world.”

  “Yeah.” A flush began to creep into her cheeks.

  “Anyway, I’ve only known Lucy for a short time,” he said. “But I’m beginning to think she’d prefer Gary without underwear to me.”

  There wasn’t much to pack. Gina took his coat from the hangar and neatly folded it in the suitcase. O’Brien tossed in some odds and ends, and as a last measure scooped up the items from his bathroom vanity. He scattered the handful on top of the clothes and zipped the carrier.

  Lieutenant Gousseau was waiting at the end of the corridor. In his heavy accent he informed them that he and Mégret had chased the goons away.

  “So this was routine after all,” Gina said to no one in particular as the elevator descended.

  “Yes, but you never know.” Gousseau raised a finger. “It could not have been.”

  Starr was standing by the Rover with his extinguished pipe in his mouth. He had the look of a ferryboat captain casting off lines. The Rover was idling quietly, and Starr directed Gina and O’Brien to the front seat.

  “Lucy and I will be in the back,” he said to Gina. “I’ve got her on a saline drip with just a little Ativan.”

  O’Brien climbed in next to Gina and tossed his lab coat into the backseat floorboards. A plastic bottle hung from a hook on the roof of the car. Lucy was fully reclined in her seat with Starr sitting upright beside her.

  “Slightly ridiculous...” Lucy mumbled.

  “Ready boss?” Kurt put the Rover in gear with a nod from Starr and they were off in trail behind the UN vehicle.

  The journey back through the city and into the countryside was a voyage through a quiet land of darkness. The roads were now completely deserted, lights were off, and buildings shuttered. Solitary human figures phosphoresced in the headlights like ghosts for a moment and disappeared.

  Kurt took all of the turns at the speed of the UN vehicle, which was fast.

  “What about the soldiers back at the hotel, Gary?” O’Brien turned his face sideways and threw a glance into the darkness of the back seat.

  “Haven’t a clue, except they probably know who we are and where we’re going. We’re the largest medical facility outside the city.”

  “So you don’t think we’ve got any further problems?” He stretched his arm across the back of the seat and pulled himself around to face Starr.

  “Shouldn’t have.”

  “Then who’s behind us?”

  “Shit,” Starr exclaimed. They all looked back as one.

  “I’ve had him for a minute or two,” Kurt said. “But he’s pretty far behind. I figure, if he’s still hanging back there after a while at this speed, then he’s tailing us.” He picked up the radio mike and hit the transmit button. “Rover to UN escort—over.”

  “Escort to Rover, go ahead.”

  The transmission came through garbled, but it sounded like Mégret’s voice to O’Brien. After a burst of communications both vehicles increased speed.

  “They can’t catch us in
the Rover. They just can’t.” He shook his head and nodded at the same time.

  Five minutes later the headlights behind them were gone.

  “Lost ’em Gary.” Kurt said into the rearview mirror.

  They slowed as the hard surface gave way to dirt roads. The motion of the car became irregular, with sharp turns and sudden jolts. For the second time in a day O’Brien found himself pressed against Gina, and this time the contact was firm at every bounce in the road. He braced himself for her reaction but there was none, and he began to relax and enjoy the sensation.

  “It’s hot in here, Kurt,” Gina remarked. “Someday you’ve got to fix the air conditioner in this thing.” She shrugged at her lab coat and O’Brien helped her pull it clear from her shoulders. She stuffed it on the side next to Kurt.

  “Still waiting for the Freon,” he replied. “But it’s not likely we’ll ever get it.”

  She was wearing something thin and sleeveless over a pair of shorts, and the sudden touch of her bare arms and legs sent an electric shock through O’Brien. His pulse hammered for a few beats. He took a breath. “You’re a lot nicer sitting next to me than a box of hand grenades,” he said after a few minutes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just something I wondered about earlier. I’m going to put my arm around the seat behind you. I’m not trying anything. It’s just more comfortable that way.”

  Lucy let out a throaty laugh from the back seat. “Are we on a double date, Daniel?”

  “Lucy, would you shut up,” O’Brien said.

  Kurt glanced backward, turned forward quickly to dodge a pothole, then took in the two couples again. “Damn if it doesn’t look like it. Are we back in high school? I can take you guys somewhere to park.”

  “Now wait a minute Kurt—everyone,” Starr said. “This isn’t some party.”

  “I’ll take you guys someplace dark and quiet, then turn my back, maybe go outside for a smoke,” Kurt said with a laugh.

  “Kurt, you’re so full of shit,” Gina said. She laughed too.

  “Let’s go to a Dairy Queen!” Lucy slurred with a giggle.

  Gina turned around. “Maybe we could share banana splits.”